Daddy Wolverine
by TheMonarchyOfRoses
Summary: Logan's taking a shot at being a single parent after fooling around a couple of years ago catches up with him. A sweet and demure girl will certainly be able to live with a stubborn man with a short temper and adamantium skeleton/claws, right? Watch as an inconvenience turns into something beautiful and fulfilling. (Will contain elements from comics, cartoons, and movies)
1. Hand in the Cookie Jar

Within the proximity of twelve hours, Logan had gone from sporting a make-believe buzz from his aged cognac Moyet in the confines of his dark classroom, to being coated with flour whilst having to deal with a crying child, who fell from the counter of the kitchen and broke the cookie jar from under her arm as she hit the ground. They were surrounded by a good amount of the staff, all of whom were less than thrilled to have to clean such a mess and hear the cries of the girl. Logan's patience hadn't lasted long as he snapped, "Will somebody shut this fucking kid up?"

"Seeing as you're already dirty, why don't you do it rather than whine about it?" Scott had countered, not wanting to deal with it any more than he did.

The wolf-like beast scanned his eyes on his peers, indimidating with his stare to no avail. It was the threat of a non-present Xavier to make him do it that coerced his decision to help her. Yes, it was _his_ decision. He begrudgingly bent down to her level, and somewhat gently took the arm that appeared to be hurt. He had to admit to himself that she deserved some credence for crying because the glass pieces that were the cookie jar were stuck all over, some even reaching an inch deep. Hell, he was surprised now that she wasn't passing out or something.

Meanwhile, the poor girl's wails were being heard by the students who could be less concerned with finding the source of the problem as they had faith that their teachers would fix whatever it was for them. And at such an inconvenient time, too; tomorrow was scheduled as the first day of final exams, written and physical.

Logan had taken the liberty of bringing her into his arms as a means to try to comfort her. She leaned awkwardly, as he had never held a child before for more than a second (only having ever held another in a bridal style), like when moving them out of harm's way while in his Wolverine persona. Although she was still crying, her breathing started to hiccup, essentially slowing and quieting her. He was relieved as she was starting to calm down as he weirdly patted her back. He had started to recollect the events that ultimately led to this unfortunate event.

.

.

_At noon on that Friday, it had only been a half day for students as a means to give them extra time to prepare themselves for their final exams. Logan was slightly thrilled for the fact that he now had extra time to get in some reading. It had been his second time reading the Jungle by Upton Sinclair. The animialistic and sadistic instincts within him was not exactly tuned off by the production methods of Chicago before the Meat Inspection Act._

_He read contently for a few minutes before his lips tugged in an unusual smirk of a memory flash. He had aged his cognac in his drawer for a while, now. He had bought it aged ten years and kept it closed five more on a practice of good faith and as a use of the only patience outlet he had: alcohol. He had poured a generous glass for himself straight up, and slowly savored the taste. He finished his drink and poured another. Nobody was there so they wouldn't bust him. He went back to his book. His imagination was once again fancied as-_

"_Hey! You're needed in the back yard, some kids are playing around with some stranger." Kitty had alarmed. Logan couldn't really be bothered with such a petty matter, surely nothing could stem from that. If it was such a problem, someone else could deal with it. He just told her that it wasn't his problem. "Why are you drinking on hours, anyway? The Professor told you about that time and time again!"_

_"You do realize that today was only a half day? Or was that too much for you to handle cause now you have nothing to look forward to today?"_

"_But she's a little kid, like can't be older than five or six. They might hurt her or something, she's playing with the older boys. Just do it you lazy ass!" That sparked his unwilling motivation. It was obvious that she was gonna make it his problem. _

_He sighed and ventured to the back yard to find a group of six boys tossing her around in the air. She wasn't screaming but was obviously very distressed with her expression and short shrieks. He went in into their circle and caught her once and for all, yelling "Knock it off! Git before you get a set of gills on your necks!" They disbanded immediately. Despite all of the trouble it has given him over his life, he had to admit that he liked being able to do that to people without even toughing them yet. _

_He then remembered the fact he was holding a child he didn't know and slightly nervously placed her back to the ground, figuring she wouldn't want to be in the air anymore. She sat down on the ground for a few seconds to collect herself. She felt ready to puke and it was evident on her face. She gagged but to Logan's relief and curiosity, did not produce any vomit. She gagged a few more times, but not even bile would emerge. It was then he took notice to how skinny she was. Not exactly near death, but not healthy at all, either. Her clothes were mainly in tact but pretty worn. A typical case street rat. He felt a little sorry for the kid._

_She finally stopped gagging and was able to stand again. She was pretty intrigued by his tall and muscular physique, and liked that she felt it could withstand a train, or so it seemed. He was scowling, but he seemed friendly enough. She coughed, "Do you need a room or home cleaned?"_

_He looked at the kid quizzically. "Why would you want to clean a house, let alone something _this _size?" He gestured to the massive X Mansion. She must not have taken much notice before, as she was bewildered by its size._

"_If I do a good job usually I can get dinner or some food." He was feeling his cognac already starting to wear off, and having this kid around him wouldn't help his buzz. _

"_Hey kid, if you behave yourself and the Professor likes you, maybe you can crash here a night. But that's it. This ain't a charity case or orphanage. Speaking of, are you gonna tell me you are lost from your parents or something?" He was slightly agitated for some reason._

_She slightly quivered, but was able to swallow her emotional side for a bit. Her silence as a response told him enough. She told him that she had wandered around with the other homeless people, kids and adults alike. She then said that she was on her own now because she felt like it was time. He decided not to pick at her brain anymore. So it was that, he directed her to Xavier's office and left instantly. He was glad that escapade was over._

_He went back into his classroom, sat back in his chair, and poured himself another well deserved glass._

_._

_._

_._

It was around midnight when the super-centenarian was hungry enough for a late night bite. The evening snacking rules were considerably liberal, so it wasn't unusual to find a few others to be grazing as well. By the time he closed the fridge door, he only then realized the pint sized pursuer of cookies was the same girl he had helped out earlier. He turned on his heel, but her screech startled him to turn to her again, his face meeting a whole bag of flour, for she thought to make a grab for that rather than the cabinet door. That's how he got to where he was now.

Logan noticed that almost everybody was already gone, assuming him to be responsible. He had to question their sanity and sense of judgment for actually thinking it okay to leave a small child under his supervision. He could hardly handle fairly normal adults, let alone unpredictable kids. But there he was. He suddenly heard a clank from the ground and looked down to see a fragment of glass. Soon he saw another one fall, then another, until he looked at her wounds slowly healing. He was not ready for that discovery, but it was nonetheless discovered, by Logan and Professor Charles Xavier, the only other person left in the kitchen other than the two. He smiled and let out a little chuckle.

"I guess it would only be logical to allow her to stay, even though she is much younger than your typical student here. But we can make a few adjustments, I'm sure."

Logan looked at the little girl's healed arm, and looked at a fairly blank face devoid of tears and pain. Her cries were loud but could make one feel sorrowful.

"Where would she stay then?" Logan asked.

"It seems that she is already acquainted with you, so I suggest your room for the time being. If you don't mind."

Logan did mind. He felt bad for her, but he wasn't going to burden himself with something that wasn't even his responsibility. He had to decline.

"Then perhaps she'll stay in my office and I can hopefully pull together a bed for her, although the last spares went to the new students last week."

Xavier knew what he was doing. And Logan did, too. He wasn't going to waste his time with him. He took the kid and angrily walked to his room. He hated having to be burdened to think of another person every second, but he did know that she had a long day. His earlier intention of leaving her to somewhere/someone else had obviously backfired, and it seemed now like she wasn't leaving any time soon. He placed her on his bed and told her to get to sleep, and not to complain about nightmares, ask for a goodnight kiss, wake him up for water, the bathroom, and not to rustle around all night. She wasn't going to give him much of a fuss when she felt the soft yet firm structure of the mattress. She did, however, unexpectedly stand up and kiss the center of his chest, the only place she could reach, and thanked him, then said goodnight. She slept soundly after that, not bothering him as promised. He laid down on the floor, trying to empty his mind. But his thoughts still lingered around the enigmatic kid. How peculiar that she shared his healing mutation, or so it seemed to be. He figured that since Jean and Xavier both shared telepathy, it wouldn't be unlikely for another person to have some familiar mutation traits.

He wasn't realizing himself fall into sleep as his mind was preoccupied, and soon he was also out. Usually, a typical night for him would be filled with the most unpleasant of nightmares that were probably based on terrible truths. But he slept soundly as the girl did; at least she did, for the first hour. Forgetting their deal, she had silently crept out of the bed and dragged the blanket with her, getting comfortable on his chest. He did not stir, nor did his breathing become labored. She pulled the blanket over them, having a nicer sleep that evening with a more consistent heat source with a nice sound to listen to; a heartbeat.

He woke up the next morning to find her on top of him, face asleep and peaceful. He wasn't too happy about it, groaning,but was a little tired still, and figured they both could use some more sleep. He was again unconscious, but was awoken by a weight lifting off of his chest. He woke up again to Jean and Storm walking with the child out of the door. She was evidently scared of them, as she turned around and desperately looked at Logan, who was leaning out of his door. He wasn't going to follow them, hoping to finally rid himself of her, giving a small wave goodbye. He lit his morning cigar and picked up _the Jungle_ again, getting hungry as the children's ears were being ground into the meat-

Suddenly he couldn't read it anymore. Last time it had entertained him greatly at this point, but this time it was inexplicably disturbing to him. In a while he got dressed in fresh clothes and headed down to the Danger Room to coach the final exams in his class. Ever since things had calmed down, he had become both the Danger Room coordinator and history teacher, enjoying the best of two worlds. He would never admit that, though.

He had spent a total of five hours coaching that day. His obstacle course had been very rigorous, as expected, but what was unprecedented was the amount of successful completions this semester. Logan thought to himself that he had either made the course way too easy or had his students finally wised up and learned to carry their own weight? The completions were making him quite pleased. His pride was short lived, though, as he was voiced in by Xavier to go into his office and to prepare for some quite startling news. His mood darkened as he prepared for the worst; his thoughts were torturing him again, images of being told that someone was dead. He dreaded it would end up again being Jean... he had always a small, but noticeable romantic candle for her, but never would carry it further than a fantasy. She was happy with Scott, and even if he were able to have her, he just knew something wouldn't work out with it. He was used to loving anything from afar, anyway. Thankfully it had dwindled significantly over the years, but his care for her never did. If anything, his love and loyalty for his team had somehow increased.

He had finally made it into the Professor's office, and found he was not alone; Hank, Jean, Scott, Ororo, and a few kids from the lab, whom he had never bothered to learn their names, all stood at the desk where Xavier sat. Logan noticed a smirk tugging at Scott's lips. He could only imagine what this was about.

"Logan, we all agreed that it was necessary to share our findings about our new friend with you." She appeared from behind the desk and feebly tried to sit on top. Scott bent down and placed her on top. She flashed a demure smile for his deed. She looked at Logan.

"Well, we have found her mutation. As you already know, mutations are from the X-chromosome that every human has at least one of. In her case, she had two mutated X's. This mutation is different, because the alleles on the opposite ends of the chromosomes are amphibious."

"So she's a toad kid like that freak?"

"Not exactly," Xavier explained, frowning at his rudeness. Logan laughed at his own joke. "They give her a lesser form of mutation, and as she matures, either a stronger form or even completely new mutation will take over. Think of her current power as a set of baby teeth. She has a healing capacity that is delayed, but still works. She also has a far superior mental capacity compared to those of her age, but we're not sure if she's exactly a genius yet. Still, much smarter than the average five year old. We expect that the intelligence agent was inherited regardless, and will stay with her if nurtured."

"She's just five?"

"Indeed. We estimate a birth date of June 28th. She has no birth certificate we could find."

"So what does this all mean to me?" He asked, getting bored and annoyed with the ambiguity. Everybody exchanged looks before Jean spoke up; "Logan, I think you're going to take special interest in her from now on."

"Why?"

Ororo looked at the cute girl and asked her to stand in the hallway with her for a second. She jumped down from the desk and shyly took Ororo's hand, then waited outside the closed door as she was told.

"What are you guys trying to fucking say already? I don't have all damn day. Finals are right now!"

Xavier took a breath. "Her mother had been missing for a while now, and it's been accepted that she's dead. No medical records, no dental, legal, anything. It's likely that she herself was a vagabond or a wanderer. There are no files of this child, so according to the government, she does not exist. That could help us and her."

"And?"

"And, after examining her genealogy, our database has brought attention two things: she is completely half Irish. Also, she has similarities in her DNA has to another mutant..."

Logan felt uneasy.

"Logan, we've run a paternity test... She's your daughter."


	2. Paternity

The child had made the pleasant discovery of the softness of Logan's bed once again. Ororo had earlier taken it upon herself to bathe the timid child and throw her a shirt of her father. She was calmed down noticeably when she was fully into the over-sized nightgown. It still had his musky yet sweet scent. It made her feel secure and content. She had been alone in the dark room for a few hours, and she had known for a while that she would stay that way for the remainder of the night. She wasn't happy about that. They were.

Logan's disappointment with himself had doubled that evening when he realized he polished off his cognac within minutes of reopening it. He hated the fact that it was nearly impossible to get him drunk, and the ever so slight buzz he scored was simply due to the near moonshine purity of his cognac; he hated the taste of moonshine, so he never took it up, a decision he now regretted. There must have been more liquor stashed around the mansion, and even if that were not the case he was sober enough to wander to the nearest bar. But he wasn't sure of the time, and bars had been closing earlier and earlier lately. At such an inconvenient time, too.

She hated confronting the dark alone, because she was never really alone. She glared at the ceiling above her in the pitch black darkness. She gripped her shirt to make the rest cling tightly to her body. The smile was taunting her and she was sick of its appalling incisors lining its mouth. Frightened as well, but more so disgusted. She wishes that she would be eaten and enjoyed already instead of having to walk with it for the rest of the nights. She never had the courage to tell it to go away. She had known it for as long as she could remember.

In hindsight it was his fault for placing this undesirable burden upon himself. His proud and delusional side had told him that it had to have been the girl's fault by not taking a damn pill or flushing it out of her when she found out she was pregnant. Obviously, that may not have been an option for her, she must have been homeless as well. Could a parent really abandon a child like that? The unintentional irony of his ranting thoughts stung through his buzz and brought him back to a guilt he was trying to inebriate. Evidently so. It was that easy not to care about another human one was responsible for. His side of humility and logic blamed him half to fully for the whole situation. It was a chief embarrassment to him that he couldn't even recollect the mother's face or supposed conception. He must have had this incident when he went on a binge of recreational fun about five years ago or so. Debauchery and ass. What made him feel the worst was that he had created a life just to be subject to a cruel existence of homelessness. Not to mention the dangers of other people. He didn't even know if anything sinister or tragic, even traumatic happened to her. She seemed too young to comprehend the horror but old enough to fear it.

Her mind could have been playing tricks on her but she could have sworn the beast was descending to her level. This time she did try to scream, but it was muted into an extension of the blackness from it. She cried again and really wished for Logan to come. She wished that she could accept that it was all in her head, but that fact alone made it much scarier, and made her feel as if she were to never escape it.

Logan had found a bottle of Gentlemen Jack he had stashed in his file cabinet as a gift from Jean (amd Scott) for his birthday last year. He had particularly liked this one, and saved this flavor for when he needed it. He didn't bother to pace himself as there would be no real reprocutions of his bacchanalian splurges. He smashed the bottle on the ground with a face of anguish and anger. He wanted to throw everything. He wanted to kill somebody. He almost considered it.

She opened her eyes to realize she was alone. Had she looked behind his shades she would've seen it was the break of dawn, a golden semicircle creating hues of indigo and blue. It was beautiful.

Logan had noticed the sunrise as he was fading in and out, over tired. Finals were going to be in his afternoon class block, so he felt like he would require a few hours of sleep to numb his mind since the booze wouldn't do its job. He knew that if he ignored it the situation would not simply go away nor be solved. But he decided that he fucked up this kid's life enough already. It was obvious to him that she didn't need him and would only hurt her in the end. He didn't have a hatred for the kid, after all, she was his offspring, but he did resent her, sadly. It was resentment with the best intentions. And with that would include him having to immediately distance himself from her so she doesn't start to connote him and the concept of fatherhood.

He opened his door and rudely slammed it, plopped on to his bed, not taking his boots off, and groaned. The little kid had been under the covers since she noticed it was gone, not wanting to be seen again. She was thankful in that moment the bed was large enough for the both of them. Speaking of which, she had wondered if it were the man she had secretly been hoping for and had not been disappointed. He, however, was, when he looked into her little face.

Wouldn't that just be his luck! As soon as he makes the decision to not be involved in her life, she cozies up to _his bed._

He had enough. He wanted to throw her gently into the hallway or send her to one of the girl's rooms. But his aching muscles and mind lulled him to stay. Of all the rooms in the massive estate, she had to choose his. Maybe she didn't even get to, and the others automatically assumed that Logan would take care of everything. A rude awakening was going to come their way.

He fell asleep soon, and when he did, the girl took her chance and snuggled into his chest with her back to him. His free arm was draped over her by her command and loosely but strongly held her. This was a comfort the shirt wouldn't provide for her. She saw it glaring at her, but it didn't dare to leave the walls. She smiled.

.

.

.

Xavier was very unhappy to have to start his day off with reprimanding Logan's poor performance as a teacher when he pointed out the back up of ungraded papers and lowering averages. This trend had been going on for about a month, just about the same time the kid had joined the facility.

"And don't try to blame your impending alcoholism on the girl, because I know you will."

Logan put his hands above shoulder length, "Alright, you got me." He wasn't drunk, but he was sobering up, having finally developed a taste for moonshine. "I've been having a few extra drinks here and there to get my mind off of things." Charles was not thoroughly impressed with his half-assed excuse.

"Let me start off by saying that in almost any personal circumstance, problems outside of the classroom should not and will not affect the classroom by any means." Logan had quipped in his mind that the last month of school hardly mattered anyway, which only exasperated a patient Professor.

"School aside, I'm even more abhorred by your lack of respoins-"

"See, right there! Don't you even fucking start on the afternoon special dad bullshit. "Step up, Logan! She's you're daughter, Logan! Do the right thing!" The _right _thing to do would be to get her the hell away from me. Can't you see I caused enough problems for the dam kid!"

"Your immaturity and stubborn head are going to be your downfall, you know."

"You know. You know what? I've been telling you not to keep her here. Send her off-"

"Where exactly would you like me to send off this vulnerable young mutant to? I'm sure the public would take warmly to her." Xavier snapped.

"Anywhere else! You and Jean, Rogue, Scott, Hank, Ororo- ALL of you keep telling me to be her dad, like I've been preparing for or wanting this. NOTHING could be more cumbersome to me!"

"James," he stated, grasping Logan's full attention, "this is not about you, not anymore. You're acting like you did when you first came her, stuck in your own lost way, refusing to move on and embrace your abilities. Now you actually have a chance to make a positive influence to change a cycle of pain for you both, and a little bit of doubt and fear is going to stop you? Don't play me as a fool."

Logan just scowled at the wise man. He hated it when he was called out for something and couldn't deny it. Truthfully, he felt very guilty for denying his paternity and ignoring her presence. She still slept in his room, so he had taken to the couch for the time being. The softer side of him even almost regretted it, but not enough to involve himself. After a minute of silence the door had burst open, followed by the kid, Scott, then Jean. She futilely tried to get onto Xavier's desk, and Scott once again helped her reach. Charles smiled at the child. She reached into her pocket and handed a folded piece of paper to the Professor. She turned her head and saw a grumpy looking Logan, who quickly averted his eyes, evoking a small frown on the girl's face. Scott had flashed her a smile to try to cheer her up, but she simply ignored it.

The Professor took the cute crude picture of obscure objects mainly resembling people. It was obvious she drew herself in the middle with a cute little dress. He noticed another person with a red line over his eyes. He had to laugh. "Is this supposed to be you and Scott, my dear?"

"Yes!" She exclaimed.

Xavier and Scott were the second and third people she had trusted, and they were among the very few. Jean smiled as she leaned against the frame of the door. Scott said, "I found her running around the halls. She asked me to find you after she showed it to me." Logan had only recounted very few times he had ever seen Scott smile, and today was another.

"Any reason why you drew him, love?" Charles asked out of curiosity, not for the answer, but the reaction.

"I think he's my daddy! Are you?" She eagerly looked at Scott.

Inexplicably Logan's mind and heart had shattered. He had been successful in convincing her they were not related... but to think of Scott as a dad before him? Even in the given circumstances that was not okay with him. He had been truly hurt, and his face hadn't bothered to hide it. It even made Scott feel bad for him and her. "Sorry, squirt. I'm not your dad."

"Who is he? Where is he? Can I see him? Does he know about me?" She rambled.

"Whoa there, honey. I know you're excited to meet him, but there are a few things that need to be taken care of first. How about you come with me and Jean to get some ice cream?" She was silent but wasn't going to refuse such an offer. Her questions not leaving her focus, she left the room while looking at Logan for as long as she could. He couldn't bare to look back.

The door closed. Charles observed a solemn looking "Wolverine", who held his head in his hands. "I want to puke right now."

"But you don't need to, so please don't." Logan still sat remorsefully. "It's not too late to change your mind, Logan. She trusts you very much. On some sort of level she must know you're her father. She always asks about you."

"She does?" His head picked up.

"Of course," he smiled, "she constantly asks if you're alright, how your classes were going, if you were happy or sad, and even started to think you were mad at her because she was using your shirts for sleeping."

"Well I did loose two Led Zeppelin shirts and a Pink Floyd tee, but at least she knew to choose good bands I guess."

"You're not too far gone, Logan. You were once lost, but we found you. We can do it again. We're all here to help, you do realize you're not alone." Logan took a deep breath and played the scenario in his head. The kid jumps on his bed. They sleep on the same one for a night or two until she gets her own or a bedroom. He then realized that she was still only about four years old, and kids in that age group tended to be clingy and needy. Was he really ready for such a commitment? Seemingly against all of his better judgement, he told himself yes.

"But before we let you become her father, we need to make sure you get better from the substance abuse, Logan. No more of that. Even if you're seasoned it's not safe for her, nor is it a good example. While we're on that subject, no more cigars, either, at least in your room. Since she's young we don't see a need to give her her own place just yet. You have enough room to fit a smaller bed for her, and we'll take care of that. As you can see Jean and Ororo took the liberty of getting her clothing and will continue to do so. I have collaborated with Hank to give her a personalized learning program until she's old enough to join regular classes. Until then, I'm reappointing you to be her full time teacher for her first semester. The curriculum is easy enough, and you have complete creative control, so long as she learns the core subjects and matter. Do I make myself clear?"

He merely nodded before he left the office. He had begun walking to his classroom to get his personal articles, mainly booze he had to dump out. He cringed at the thought of that. He figured that the binge definitely needed to stop, but he could still enjoy himself in moderation. He would only save one bottle of his choosing. As soon as he entered his room he saw Hank and Scott leaving with four bottles each, smirking, saying that he didn't need it anymore and were authorized by Charles to take them. His patience was being tested to the extreme right now.

"Shouldn't you be getting some ice cream, ugly eyes?"

"Jean's on it. Like my dick."

The floors smelled like booze and blood for almost a week.

.

.

.

About a week into sobriety, the bed had been set up for her, along with a dresser and small vanity. They both were black so it wouldn't be too girly in Logan's room. He was very anxious because today was the day in which he'd officially become her father. If anything Xavier said was true, she had already been fond of him. He had to carry the secret guilt of initially rejecting her to himself. She had been through enough already.

His worries were interrupted by Storm leading the little girl into his, _their,_ room. She smiled at the girl before winking at Logan, then leaving. The girl climbed onto what she assumed to be her bed and frowned. His bed was a lot softer. He didn't smile, ever, so she knew he wouldn't be too friendly. Past experience had told her to wait until he had fallen asleep before sleeping beside him. They both sat there in silence, not knowing what to say.

"You're my daddy?"

He didn't believe he was answering this. "Yeah, I guess so, kid. Sorry I ain't better looking."

"It's okay."

"Looks like you lucked out though, sport. You're not an eye sore." She giggled.

"Why wouldn't you see me at all before? Are you mad at me?" She looked genuinely sad. The dim lighting made her eyes look darker.

"No, no. I was just being... stupid. Real stupid. No good excuse for it. But that's done. Things are gonna change for you." He tried to sound reassuring, but he was uncertain himself. She nodded and seemed to believe him. She wanted to hug him and finally be happy she had a daddy, but she was too afaid that he would leave her if she did. So, she settled for holding the blankets to her chest.

"So you can heal all of your wounds. That's pretty cool."

"Yeah. I wish I didn't feel anything. It hurts."

"Sometimes that's one of the only things that show us we're really alive."

"Do you ever get hurt?"

"A lot. It comes with the job."

"What's your job?"

"We'll save that for another day." He had surprised himself with how he was handling her. Yet again, she seemed remarkably mature for her age. Living on the streets probably forces you to. "You tired?"

"I can't sleep much."

"Why not? Nightmares?" She looked at the corner, it was smiling again, more menacingly than before, and more menacingly than before. Logan looked at the same corner to find empty space. She understood it didn't want to be told about, so she simply nodded. "I get them too. Real bad." He empathized. She looked down at her hands.

"Kid, I'm sorry I aint the soft type. But I guess you're not used to that anyways. But, you are my daughter, take it or leave it. If you need me for anything, just wake me up. I got you now."

She sat as she digested what he had told her.

"Daddy?"

He had never responded to that before, "Yeah?"

"Promise that you won't let me get hurt anymore?" Anymore?

He nodded his head, his mind wandering into territories he wished not to visit in thinking of what could have hurt the girl. There could have been accidents, illnesses, _people. _He nearly visibly shuttered at the thought.

"I'm scared." She muttered.

"Of what?'

"I'm just scared."

She leaked her infamous silent tears. These tears were the most unbearable as they looked too acutely hurt. His previously unknown paternal instincts kicked in and he gently embraced his new daughter, who held him back tightly.

"Sweetheart, daddy's not gonna let anything hurt you. I promise." The highs and lows of the past few years had hit him all instantaneously as he held his weeping child and soon found himself reluctantly joining her. He cried because he was sorry he had messed up so badly. He cried because he was sorry he had ignored and rejected his only child. He cried because his heart cried.

She calmed down. She looked to his face, but his evidence of sorrow had been erased.

"Life's gonna be different for ya, darlin'. You're never going to need or want again." He gave her a small smile.

"I want a kitty!" She said, excited.

"Maybe some day. If I like you enough."

She fell asleep cradled to him. Her arms were fastened on his chest. He felt that they both needed to be near each other that night. For what lied ahead, he wasn't sure. He expected it to be long and challenging, nearly impossible. But as a newly established dad, it was his job to try.


	3. Shortie

Logan snored peacefully for the first time in a while. He was sprawled out on his bed as if he were drinking before, but he had been sober for a while. People even began to notice he had cut back on the cigars, which explained his (extra) grouchiness. He had been popular talk in the circulation of petty rumors induced by students with nothing better to do. They all gushed over his daughter, who took special care to avoid them at all costs. She's even been slipping away from Scott lately, a fact Logan doesn't mind at all. She spent most of her time under her father's shadow, learning history as of now, because he felt she was too young to lay the more intense stuff on her. As of now she was once again laying on his side. He had figured she wouldn't be too different from a high maintenance dog, and just had to emphasize his lessons and orders to her, and she'd eventually learn. But that sneaky child knew how to crawl on his chest and get little to no protest. If he kept giving in to her wishes, she'd never learn...

He hated early mornings as much as she did, so he decided that today could be a late day. He couldn't fall back asleep, but didn't mind the silence for a while. He took this time to think about his kid as a whole; quite demure and reserved, but affectionate to whom she loves. He liked that in a person. It saved them from having to maintain phony ploys of friendship to others. But she wasn't rude to others at the same time. He also noted that the poor thing was always so scared. In the past few months he could recount a couple acts of extreme phobia; naturally, she couldn't stand the dark (alone), she slightly xenophobic, but not exactly racist, and had a crippling fear of heights. She said it had to do with the sound of the fall.

Her mutations hadn't really evolved much yet. Xavier had more tests run on her and concluded that the new set of powers, should they even be new, would express themselves as she hit puberty. He had heard of and seen multiple nightmares of prepubescent and adolescent kids, all of whom were afflicted with an unrealistic sense of entitlement and a belief that they have such horrible problems, when more often than not they just don't think straight at that time. He saw puberty as PMS: an excuse to be an ass. He wouldn't let that slide with her, but something told him it wouldn't be too much of a problem since she was already so obedient at such a young age.

Their peaceful haze was ceased by an intruding Xavier making his way to Logan's bed. Since he had the kid with him he had begun wearing more... decent bedroom attire for the night, so for that he was thankful in the moment. But he was still pissed that he had the nerve to barge in like that. He countered in Logan's head that it's still his house. Touché.

He placed a yellow envelope on his nightstand and told him he had some paperwork to fill out that he had to answer personally, not a secretarial or computer job. Logan technically had no reserve to complain, because ever since he had been fully in charge of the girl's early education, his workload had dramatically decreased. He was able to still be in charge of the Danger Room on call, and whenever he had some free time he'd go down and make sure everything went smoothly. Logan gently moved his daughter to the foot of the bed as Xavier left the room. He opened the envelope to find a few documents to legitimize her, at least in the facility. It included all phenotypes, statistics, and genealogy. He was a little screwed in the maternal wing, but they couldn't have expected him to fill that out anyway. He filled out the first sheet that was to include her personal information. He started filling in what he knew until he re-examined the page and noticed he had missed a crucial point on the paper and in parenting: her name.

How he or anybody else never had the presence of mind to ask her name or give her one was beyond him. And he was stuck on this one. He had never wanted kids in the first place, so he had never had any names picked out like most women have done by the age of fifteen. Her sleeping face was as fragile and had the pallor of porcelain. He had always liked the name Laura, but he felt that this title didn't give her justice. He considered letting her choose, but that would probably end badly.

The object of his unwilling affection had awoken as if she knew she was on his mind. They had a pleasant chat as they usually did in the morning after waking up. He directed the conversation to the name situation. She had informed him she never really had a name that stuck. Other people felt obligated to give her their favorite names but both would never stay. That's why she was content with just being called "kid".

"You gotta have a name, though, you're staying here." She beamed at that sentence, finally feeling like she belonged to somewhere, someone. But she never really had a name in mind. Logan had an unusual spark of genius: let the day dictate her name. He ushered her to get dressed as he did the same in the bathroom. He wore his typical attire and she a small black dress. It made her look witchy, and she that was über cool. He decided that since it was a Saturday they could take a break from lessons. What they were going to do was still unclear to him. Other than her travels beforehand she had never left the campus, nor did she have the desire to. At first that fact spited Logan, now he loved it. They wandered around the massive mansion for a while, meeting many students and faculty members on the way. May of them had never seen the child before due to her shy nature and recent sheltering by Logan. She hid behind his leg any time a person looked her in the eye or tried to get to her level. He quickly picked up on it and just wore his usual glare with extra fire to scare off anybody who tried to talk to them. Yep, that power never gets old.

She had made a protest of hunger to which he had to agree. They wandered off to the kitchen where she had gained a good fifteen pounds since she joined. Granted she was still a small child and a little bit underweight, but only by a little, nothing threatening. She planned on gaining those pounds and then some when she opened the fridge to find a strawberry shortcake at the top shelf. Her pupils dilated like she had seen the ethereal plane inside the confection. She didn't wait to start jumping to reach the top, arms stretched in dedication. Logan couldn't help but chuckle to himself before walking over to help her. As soon as she saw his hand reach for it, she yelled a bold and defiant "No!", startling Logan.

"Looks like you do have a voice after all, runt. Let me get it for ya..."

"NO! I can do it! Let me do it!" She saw it was a loosing battle, but she never gave up easily. She had decided now would be a good time to conquer her foe from the first day of arrival: the counter. The fact that she wasn't banned from the kitchen after spilling the flour and breaking the cookie jar was bewildering. She advised her father to go into the corner and stay there. He was confused by the command but nonetheless complied, shaking his head. He turned around and saw her up on the counter and near the fridge. He walked fast over to where she was, and she noticed, so she climbed up on the top of the fridge, shouting a quiet "Yes!" to herself in victory. The celebration was short lived due to her dad picking her up from the top of the fridge. She had forgotten to take into account his massive height. She didn't bother fighting it and accepted she would have to be short forever.

Logan opened the door with one hand while holding her in his other arm. He told her to grab the cake herself, trying to teach her the power of teamwork. She was much more satisfied with that rather than having him have to do it for her. They didn't bother getting plates and devoured the food. Logan went at a slower pace since the food was a little sweet for him, but he was aghast by how fast and how much food she ate, nearly half of the damn cake. She finished with a loud burp and the stretch of her arms. "Shortcake is the closest thing to Heaven."

What was so great about shortcake? She had mentioned she loved the strawberries and that red was her favorite color. She also said she liked it because they were both short. He had to admit she looked a little under height for her age, probably stemming from previous malnutrition. She was a little shortie.

That word bounced around in his head. _"Shortie... shortie... shorite... Shortie!" _His second grand idea had struck that day.

"Hey kid, would you like the name "Shortie" or something? It kinda fits you well."

"Yes!" She beamed, "I was worried I'd get a boring name like Laura or Ann!" He swallowed that one down. But he had to agree, Shortie was cool. It wasn't the _worst _name he could've chosen. At least she liked it, for now. And it was with that he later went to finish her paperwork with a first and last name: Shortie Logan. He thought that somehow it sounded appropriate.

Xavier examined the papers quizzically. He wouldn't expect Logan to use such an obscure name for her, but she was an oddity. Later in the day she had paid him a visit and they discussed her name.

"Now, come on, sweetheart. Shortie is a nice nickname, but not for a given name."

"But it is! I want this name more than I want my hair!" She gestured to her new strawberry red hair.

"I can't tell you what to do, so please make sure this is what you want." He gently warned with a smile. This is why she liked him. He didn't lie to her or treated her like a helpless idiot. She thought he would be a nice grandpa. She would ask that of him later.

"Say it." She demanded.

"Say what?"

"Say the name." Gee, which movie out of one thousand did she steal that one from? He could only laugh before he said "Shortie Logan."

"Thank you grandpa!" She gasped and covered her mouth. He laughed again having read her thoughts on adopting him as a family member. "You're welcome, granddaughter." He loved this little girl from the first seconds of meeting her. He could tell she was headed for things greater than herself. She gave him a big hug before running to her dad's room to tell him the news. All the way there she could only think of one thing:

"Shortie Logan".

She couldn't decide which name made her happier.


	4. Saving Us

It never occurred to Logan, or anybody else for that matter, that Shortie had never left the facility since she had joined. She never wandered to the doors, looked out the windows for long, or even asked to go outside. So Logan's paternal state of panic was well justified when he woke up to an empty bedroom and couldn't find her all over the mansion. His first worry was that she had found her way to the Danger Room and could get seriously hurt. He then wondered if any of those bastard students were messing with her or scaring her. He had to be collected (a trait that goes through the window when he's distressed) and go to Xavier for this. He was embarrassed as a new father since he had to admit to his superior that he had lost his own child under his watch. He sighed and entered his office.

"She's gone." Xavier looked at the wolf man with bewilderment. He could voice his disappointment and severity of the situation to him, but that would be the last thing he needed to hear as her dad. Against his initial commentary thoughts, he had sighed and started the trek to Cerebra. The whole walk down there was uncomfortable for them and anybody who was near. For Logan they were not moving fast enough, his hands shook with anticipation to get there already. He knew that she could heal, but he also knew that the ability wasn't as efficient as his, and he also had the burden of knowing those powers could wane at any moment. The journey of a million miles finally ended and Charles was hooked up to the machine. He swam through the thoughts of the many mutants of the world, looking for a specific voice. He had searched and searched, but to their horror, she was not to be found. The only explanation that Xavier could give was that she must've had some psychic power. Logan was not happy with this and fled the room to their bedroom. He grabbed a dress she frequented and sniffed it. He took it with him as he went outside. He got a faint scent of her; she wasn't too far. But he could tell that she was far out enough to be into the city.

Everything that could be against him transportation wise, was. The X Jet was in need of gruesome repairs, Scott's bike wasn't there, nor was any other car, seeing as the students don't leave their home that often. All of the students have never seen Logan, or anybody, run that fast; the only person that could outdo that speed would be Quicksilver.

He was starting to breath heavier, but this just felt like an intense cardio session. The exercise was admittedly making it easier for him to clear his mind and think rationally. The search began...

She woke up much earlier than usual; five thirty was extremely early to her ten. She shook Logan a few times but he was stone cold asleep. She gave up the battle and jumped off the bed, going into the hallway, taking some food in a bag from the kitchen, then to the back yard. She was able to witness a sunrise over the mountainous trees in awe. The one thing she appreciated her whole life was witnessing numerous sunrises. To her, they were a hope of a new day; that she woke up and was alive. She stretched and started wandering. She made her way to the front and decided to follow the road; it was the road she followed when she found her new home. She remembered the harsh but gilded city of which she originated. She hadn't realized how long she had be walking until she looked up to the sky with the sun getting closer to the center. She also realized that she was only a few blocks away from the heart of the city. She ventured until she found a familiar park that she used to call home.

Everything was the same; a single swing set with ten slots but five seats, the paint long washed away. Water fountains were plentiful with half filtered city water. Benches were dispersed. The jungle was still broken but with a single stable tube ten feet above the ground. She crawled into that crevice with a bitter nostalgia. She'd never want to live here again but she never had the chance to say goodbye to it. Many cold and rainy nights were hers to whether as she sought shelter in the play area. She crawled out and decided to take a stroll. She looked like one of those asses that never bothered to change out of their pajamas despite going out into public. She couldn't exactly blame them, though, they were comfortable. She saw the birds play in the trees and admired the extraordinarily beautiful flowers along the bushes and sidewalk. It has been said that people would throw their own seeds or plant flowers about in the park to create a unity of something beautiful. She had always picked the flowers and used them to decorate her "house". She felt that this time she should leave them be. But she still went inside the bushes. She laughed as she danced with a couple butterflies who were hiding. She didn't pay attention and stumbled backwards, falling on her ass. She found that the object that made her fall was an old, rusty helmet. They weren't like the helmets she was the bikers wear in the park, it covered most of a face and was really hard. Her curiosity spiked and she put it on. She was surprised that it wasn't as heavy as she thought.

She exited the bushes and continued walking. Now she was a spectacle. She heard people pass rude comments about her. She looked up to see a young lady with long brown hair holding a card that read "rehab". She didn't know what that meant, but her face indicated that it was bad. She continued walking, and though it seemed like nobody else had noticed, she saw many more cards like "abortion", "capitalism", "drug addiction", "poverty". What confused her even more was that all of them looked so miserable.

She started feeling hunger and pulled out an orange. She was about to sink her teeth in the unpeeled fruit, but above the surface of the orange she saw a man laying on the bench. His clothes were battered, dirty and town. She felt guilty for nearly feeding a small hunger pang. She had more food in her bag, and a lot at the mansion, so she walked up to the man. She shook him awake; he jerked back in initial fear until he saw it was a little girl extending to him an orange and a bottle of water. He was apprehensive, but after she flashed a smile he gratefully took it. He didn't bother to peel the fruit and devoured it. It was gone in a minute. He gulped his water down too; he hadn't had fresh water in years. He looked into her innocent eyes and began to weep as he thanked her for her cordial act. She said it was no problem and went on her way. There were more people who seemed hungry, so she figured she could skip a meal and feed them.

Horribly guilty was what he was feeling. It was his job to monitor her and make sure she wasn't wandering off where she wasn't supposed to be. He scanned the road and other places, wishing that she'd giggle and jump out from behind with a bush and say "boo!" and admit it was all a game. He was furious. He was furious with himself. He had always feared he wouldn't be a good parent ever since she came into his life and now this just proved it. He almost started crying but his strength had pulled through once again to shelter his feelings. He was adept at that. Soon he had found the park and her scent intensified. The whole time, Logan had been panicking for nearly an hour until he smelled her and saw her. Her scent gave him the drive to run to her, knocking over a few people in the process. She turned around to the sound of a few yells and saw him running towards her. She quickly threw her bag to the family of three she saw; two young lovers and a baby. She was suddenly swooped up into his strong arms so fast that her helmet flew off. Her face met with Logan's. She could see the distress and panic written all over.

"Don't you EVER do that to me again! Do you hear me?!" He wasn't yelling at her in anger, he just didn't know how to tell her how badly he was scared. He had never been that afraid of anything in his adult life. She buried her fave in his neck. He peered over her and noticed a grateful homeless family with her bag full of food. "What were you doing out here, anyways?"

"I just wanted to see my old house over there." She pointed to the trail that led to the jungle gym he had passed by. He punished himself everyday for subjecting her to a homeless childhood, and this was just another stab in his chest. They (he) started their walk home. "Did you give them your bag?" She nodded.

"I was hungry but a lot of people looked hungrier so I gave them the food from the kitchen." Even though this whole ordeal made him age twenty years in stress he couldn't help but be immensely proud of what she had done for complete strangers. People still had the gall to say that mutants were evil. Maybe in this rotten world, love and purity can exist. There were many elements of her past he did not know (which haunted him), but he knew that she could still be pure. Maybe she had seen things, but since she was young, there was a chance she would forget. He could only hope. He then had an epiphany to why they couldn't find her on Cerebra: she must have found an old helmet of Magneto's lost in a battle, which would explain both her helmet and the fact that the style of his helmet inexplicably changed. The walk home had been a quiet one, but didn't last too long since it was only about three miles. For her, it was a hundred, but for Logan it had originally been a million.

He was sure that she wouldn't be punished, if anything rewarded by Xavier for her selfless deed. Maybe she was the force that would end up saving us in the end. He hugged her tightly in a rare display of affection. He happily hugged him back and told him she loved him. He was silent but the feeling was beginning to become mutual.


	5. Thunderstruck

It was always in Logan's nature to act on instinct and to do so bluntly. He didn't make time for tears or to listen to any bullshit that came with sensitivity. He liked that about himself. It gave him a height on others and made him an honest man. But it would tear him in a nearly tangible sense if he admitted that he was a little disappointed that his ostensibly only daughter was so anxious and timid in nature, especially given her mutations.

Granted she was young, he knew this, but shouldn't she also realize by know he has a genetic protective disposition? Despite what he thought would be comforting enough, he found her more often than not in a state of subtle fear. She didn't act out or even let it manifest on a grand scale; they were subtle variations that only Logan's keen precision senses could detect. She was admittedly making progress, though, as she had lost her discomfort with Jean and Ororo. She had ostensibly pictured Jean and Scott as her secondary parental set that she had hoped to keep placed upon the shelf. She saw Ororo as someone she wanted to be one day. But she would never place them near the level Logan resided.

She had taken to the outdoors immensely for the summer. It was in the middle of June and the weather had never been so optimal. Summer courses had been taking place outside, of which would often disrupt designated relaxation areas of lounging staff and students on their free time. On the weekends the grounds were calmer and dispersed. Those were the hours where Shortie would wander about the perimeter of the building and do her thing in the gardens.

She wasn't always aware of it but Logan had kept a constant watch on her whenever she ventured outside. He would watch out the windows, sometimes on the roof when he felt less acrophobia, just making sure she was okay. He would never acknowledge the level of care he had felt develop and grow. He didn't want any bit of it but he had no choice.

Today she had crossed a line, though. It was practically petty but he had lost his sixth shirt in the time he picked her up. He had lost his last AC/DC shirt, _Thunderstruck. _She had been eating a bowl of fruit for her lunch on the counter in the kitchen, wearing it with a mischievous grin when she saw his scowling eyes dart at the shirt. Her blue eyes shined him a sucker and finished lunch. He picked her up and demanded it back.

"Come on, you know you have your own damn clothes. Ain't they enough?"

"What should I do, get naked for everyone?" She jabbed.

"Don't be a smart ass!" That was _his _thing.

"I would actually rather be naked."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Because I'm not naked." She started pulling at her shirt and he immediately halted her, his original intentions backfiring.

"Shit. Fine, wear the fucking shirt, it's the least I can give ya." He dropped her and went about himself. She ran for outside to do whatever she had been doing before. He smelled a heavy scent of rain in the air today. He smelled a lot more than a usual pour; he figured it to be a storm. He started walking out to the yard and looked around for her. He hadn't heard her but he could still smell her and found her laying about in a small flower bed. She was just a damn poster child of beautiful. He was proud of that.

"Hey, kid, get inside. It's gonna be raining soon."

"So? You let me in the rain before."

"This one's a storm, darlin. Come on, we'll take a nap or something."

"There was no thunder or lightening! Please?" She reasoned. He looked at the gray yet vibrant sky. He hadn't seen or hear any storm clouds if he had to be honest. Against his usual instinct, he once again gave in to her pleas. He was never consistent in the sense he wanted to be.

"Fine. But as soon as I hear something your ass is inside."

She hadn't been paying attention to him as a butterfly flew by her face. She got up and walked over to the blue and black-winged insect. She delicately picked it up and placed it on her nose. It stayed and opened then closed its wings on her face. It flew to higher than she could reach. She slowly walked around in a circle. This oddly amused Logan. He loved watching her innocently wander about her world.

She had stopped walking for a second before she felt herself briskly be thrown from where she stood, blinded by a white flash. As she hit the ground she felt a burning sensation in her leg and felt her shoes fly off. Logan hadn't even realized what the hell he saw for a while, not being able to comprehend that she had been literally struck by lightening. She lay on the ground. He felt immense despair in lengths previously unseen by man as he held her in his arms. Her eyes were open in a second as she looked into his worried eyes. He hugged and kissed her all over in his arms at her synaptic responses in tact. She laughed at the tickle it provided.

He let her go, and to his astonishment, she walked out of his embrace. She hadn't fully healed yet but she wasn't that badly injured to begin with. In an act of proud defiance she flashed a small middle finger towards the sky. He had laughed like a son of a bitch at that.

"What's that for, sweetie?"

"Thunder and lightening can't get me. Suck it!"

He had paled at her language she undoubtedly picked up from him. She was too young to correctly use it, but he had said it enough. She took Logan's hand and triumphantly walked back into the mansion with an unbelievable story to tell. He would vouch for her, because he would never believe it if he had never seen if for himself. He was unbelievably proud of her newfound courage, and hoped that it would carry through for her more. But one conclusion was for sure.

This parenting was going to be the death of him.


	6. Earth on Turtle's Back

Well, it's time for my ungrateful ass to thank you all for the favorites, follows, and reiviews! Accordingly, I thank Lead Owl, MamaVolk, ABewilderedBear, The Wind Whispers To Me, Tumblingintowonderland, queencavillry, hgwebber27, nightsinshadow, Black Raven Feather, FrozenDemigoddess13, ChelseaLouisePowell, FeliciaFelicis, SashaWritesFiction, charnii, meriland25, Cadburrytroppper96, Chella218, ScarlettScales, lovezjacobblack, and Winchester-or-Whitlock very cordially for subscribing to this story of mine. A very special thank you goes out to TimeLordHowl, Black Raven Feather, FrozenDemigoddess13, and Cadburrytroppper96 for giving me wonderful reviews! I try not to ask for them because I know how annoying that can be, but they really do make my day :) Thank you all again for reading my story. I honestly worry that I make Logan way too OOC right off the bat. The challenge is softening him up gradually, and mostly not in front of others, cause he's got a rep on the line yo ;) THANK YOU ALL FOR EVERYTHING. 3

Shortie had taken a liking to Native American folklore and stories in her studies facilitated by Logan. He had made a special emphasis for the teachings of the Natives and made sure to tell it in a truthful manner: genocide. It did horrify her, but she wasn't surprised to begin with. The one thing he felt he could actually do right with her would be to teach her truthfully and correctly, a feature not seen in the contemporary education system.

"Daddy?" She inquired as he closed the book.

"Yes?"

"Why don't we believe our dreams anymore? I had a dream that I flew and flew but I didn't leave the ground when I really tried."

He was slightly taken aback, as he too often thought the same. "I don't know, darlin. I guess we all just lost touch with our spirituality."

"Why?"

"Apathy and organized religion. People have lost the substance in their souls while becoming materialistic. And those who do seek a higher power often are misguided by a church or some organized bullshit."

"I thought Christians, Jews, and Muslims were good though."

He sighed. "Some are, some aren't. That's any demographic sweetie. It's just they've been a ploy to manifest as a powerful and lucrative machine. It's a shame something potentially beautiful has been so... corrupted."

She had actually had a good understanding of those words; after teaching her the alphabet, he'd initiate an exercise where she would randomly open the dictionary and select up to ten words, study them, then have a quiz on them when he felt it appropriate. But what he said had true, bitter sentiment to him. Having lived so long and traveled the world, he saw both ends of the religious spectrum, where it's run by a suppressive power system under which nonsensical bloodshed had flowed; to those who have forever maintained hearts of gold express an ethereal love for a deity in which they believed. To the good people in religion, he had reserved respect. But the evils that surround them, he couldn't ignore.

"Do you believe in God, Daddy?"

"I'm not sure. Do you?"

"Kind of. I believe in my God."

"Your God?"

"He loves and respects all people and living things. He's one guy but then he's a lot of other guys if another person believes he is."

"Sounds like a nice guy."

"He is." She smiled. He loved her youthful optimism sometimes. "Daddy?"

He nodded.

"I have a turtle on my back, you know."

"I think you're remembering the story wrong. It was the _Earth on Turtle's Back._"

"No, look!" She eagerly took her shirt off (she had a thing for nudity, apparently) and turned around. He analyzed her spine and saw a birthmark which could easily resemble a turtle.

"Huh, I guess you do. When did ya find that?"

"Auntie Jean told me about it when she gave me a bath last night. Daddy, is she my mommy?"

The Logan, James, Wolverine, all of him around ten years ago would've died to say yes. Even now that would be far from a burden on him. He was surely relieved that in the past few years his romantic feelings for her (and others) had inexplicably dwindled. However, his care and love for those he kept close had only intensified over the years. He concluded that they were really his family. "No, Shortie. She's just your Auntie. She loves you like a mom, though, I'm sure." He coughed. "Hey, what do you think of," he slightly grunted, "Uncle Scott?"

"I like him. He needs to smile more. Like you."

"You think I smile a lot?"

"No, you need to smile more too." He smirked at her. "No, a real smile!" She tickled his defined ribcage to which he feigned the sensation. She frowned at his ingenuity. "You're a turtle!" 

He was amused and chuckled. "How so?"

"I don't know." She grabbed her shirt, put it on, then left the room to raid the kitchen. He sighed again. He expected the short attention span she had. He was thankful enough that she wasn't such a boring kid. He actually cherished all of the time he had with her, although his though guy reputation would restrain his affection a good amount. She understood that he wasn't a touchy-feely man unless he deemed it necessary. Although she secretly was a hugger, she knew that he loved her enough in his own way.

He began thinking about what she said. She had many incoherent ramblings before, but they all seemed to have a certain value or consistency. She could talk for hours with Logan, but that aside she kept to herself well. The body language she emitted that most people picked up presented her as erudite and well rounded. To a small but fair extent she was, but her timid nature was always overlooked as matured. He was a turtle. Turtle? Was he languid and sheltered? Absolutely not. He racked his brain for a symbolic standpoint. They represented patience, a big no; peace, not likely; and wisdom, perhaps. He felt his stomach digest and felt the emptiness.

He walked into the kitchen to see the same sight he had her first night, cookie jar full. His judgment fared pretty well, for he caught her before she fell again. She hugged him tightly around the neck as she giggled. He had the jar in his hand, and saw they were a special batch Ororo had made from an African recipe she had made herself. They were pretty damn good, too. He set her down. He had this feeling he could not explain as he let her down, feeling both her weight and another releasing itself from his mass. The weight came back as soon as he saw her smiling face again. She had a small, rounded nose, cheeks with a natural blush, blue eyes that seemed to be susceptible to subtle change in color, and that wild red hair that surprisingly lasted well. She had only dyed it red once with Jean's help and it had looked fresh for the longest time. He felt the weight leave as she left the room, then felt it again when he made the choice to follow her. She turned on her heel and gave him a stink eye.

"What?"

"Stop following me! I'm okay on my own in the house." She demanded. She was the clingy one, but she liked alone time during the sunlight hours.

"Just making sure you're safe, darlin." She wrapped her arms around his legs and kissed near his right knee as he ruffled her hair. She ran off and he fought off the feeling to follow her. The weight also seemed to get denser and heavier. He thought to himself that he didn't like his world to be far from him...

Wait, did he just say world? His intentions were to think out _"... my daughter to be far from me.."_, but even he couldn't deny that he had thought it. His world? He figured it was safe to say that by now. He certainly felt the weight of the world when he was around her.

He heard her footsteps running in his direction, followed by a "Daddy, catch me!" He turned around and crouched before she jumped on his back. He started running around the main living room with her on his back. The running and spinning was making her squeal with laughter, and he soon found himself joining her with true intention. He hadn't smiled or laughed like this... ever. Not in his whole life had he ever been able to plunge his harsh reality into temporary oblivion to spend time on the planet of his daughter. The whole situation, in daily and long terms, had been too surreal for him. It was too good to be true and too true to be a fallacy.

Unbeknownst to them, a good handful of students, along with Eddie, Scott, and Jean, had entered the doorways, watching the cute duo play. A kid with a camera thought that the piggyback would be the perfect picture, so he flashed the image. Logan and Shortie had exchanged loving smiles before looking in the direction of the audience. Shortie jumped from his arms and made a menacing pose, to which all of the spectators playfully jumped back, "startled". Logan made a real angry face, which gave all of the students the incentive to leave.

"Did we miss dress up time?" Scott teased. Logan made a sarcastic sweet face before making a vomit face at him. Shortie said, "Would you play with me, Uncle Scotty?"

He silently gulped having been put on the spot. "Sure. But it won't end with me in a dress, kiddo."

They had all agreed to a friendly game of hide and seek. They soon were also trapped in her happy little universe, loosing track of the time spent playing the game. Moments like these had strengthened their love for the child. Escaping to a happy place, forgetting the petty grievances of adulthood.

In the end, the laughter and happiness balanced out with the stress and worry Logan had placed upon himself since becoming a father. He was consistently worried about her health, happiness, education, emotions, relationships, mutations- everything. He had begun to wonder who of them was the bigger coward. Well, he wouldn't call her a coward, considering she still faced what she didn't want to. But he hated to accept that he understood why parents, or at least decent ones, protect and worry obsessively over their children. He knew it not to be logically true but he feared that she could shatter or tear at the slightest aggression. Mutations could protect you, but only made you a bigger target for the real world. He angrily felt that she had seen enough of the real world for now. He made a vow to protect her innocence as long as possible without lying to her about the evils of the world she already knew.

He tucked her in to bed as usual, half-assed because he knew she'd just join him in his bed eventually. He had kissed her forehead and fell to his mattress, thinking about the passing day. He turned on his side to see a picture on his nightstand. It was the image of Shortie riding on his back, one hand holding onto his shoulder and the other making a rock n' roll sign. He noticed he had a wicked grin himself, caught in the middle of laughing with her. Another secret to himself was how much he loved the photo. The note on the back gave away their already obvious identity, to whom he'd pay a visit to. He analyzed the picture. He laughed with it, looking at the world on his back.

That's when it really donned on him. He was the turtle and she was the world, _his _world.

"_Fuck."  
_


	7. Independence Day

Shortie didn't eat her breakfast of eggs, bacon, and blueberries. It had been prepared in an allusion to the day's holiday: American Independence Day. She took the fruit off her plate and walked out of the dining area back to her room. She noticed many American themed centerpieces on every table she passed by, glittering in the good old red, white, and blue. She was familiar with the holiday; the park she lived in had always displayed spectacular fireworks for all spectators to witness with their families. She could only recount one clear memory of fireworks in the park. Running around with the other children in the dirt had concealed her identity of a riffraff and solidified her distaste for other children and fireworks when one had handed her the burned end of a used sparkler. She didn't have the scar anymore, but she remembered the burn clearly.

She reached her room as soon as Logan had pulled a shirt over his torso. He reprimanded her to knock before entering, making her giggle. He had only slightly frightened her one time, that being when she wandered off without permission a few miles away from the estate. "Don't give me a reason to scare you, kid."

"You don't scare me, daddy."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a scary monster that loves me." Damn, she knew where she stood.

Soon enough noon came around. Shortie was with Ororo in her room. Ororo had taken the liberty of getting Shortie her first bathing suit. She had gotten three of the same design, a simple black one piece with a dressy flow over the pelvic region, making it look like a little black dress. The smallest size had fit her perfectly. Ororo beamed at the cute girl, proud of her guess work. She led the girl to the pool outside, where multiple mutants were swimming in the blistering sun. Shortie opted to sit on a chair shaded by an umbrella whereas Ororo jumped straight in for a dive, figure working nicely in her newly bought bikini, with students and staff alike admiring her glistening skin.

Logan had found a chair and pulled up next to Shortie with two water bottles in hand.

Classes were postponed to make time to celebrate Independence Day indefinitely, complete with a cookout scheduled from noon until midnight. Staff was to chapperone, but were told that later into the night the students would be led inside, permitting the adults to not have to deal with a completely dry party. The pool was being freshly cleaned to be trashed again, a huge grill was being scraped, the grass was freshly cut (only by coincidence). There had been a stash of fireworks to be ignited by around ten or so, carefully hidden away from the knowledge and grasp of mischievous students for the school's first year of displaying them.

Logan could tell that Shortie was both hot and bored. She drank her water within a few seconds, crushing the bottle when she was done. She laid her head on her arms, feeling the drowsiness from the sun take effect.

Logan shook her lightly, "You shouldn't lay in the sun without sunscreen, you could get sunburn." He looked around and found a stash of sunscreen bottles at the table at the other side of the pool. As he walked over, the women of the facility had been exclaiming not so subtle flirtations aimed at him. It was hot enough for him to wear shorts and a wife beater, but not enough to take of the boots. The odd fashion sense only served to entice the girls even more, to his embarrassment. He had grabbed a bottle and scurried over to their table, squirting the lotion on his hand, then finally getting it on Shortie's back, legs, arms, and face areas.

"You know how to swim yet?" He asked as he rubbed the last bit in her face. She muffled a no. When he finished, she lowered her head again with intention to take a nap. He shook her alert, earning him a stink eye.

"Come on, I'll get in with you. I can teach you how to swim if you want."

She peered over to the pool, noticing a vacant shallow end. She nodded her head, then he took her hand and walked to the steps leading in. She was a bit wary at first, but descending into the water only felt like a cool bath to her. She stopped going in when the third stair cut her off at her collar bone, then retracted back to the first step. Logan was halfway in the shallow end before he looked to see her standing defiantly on the step.

"Why aren't you coming in?"

"Too many people."

"They're all in the deep end, they ain't gonna bother us. Get out and jump in, I'll catch you."

She was a bit apprehensive but nonetheless complied and walked to the base of the shallow end. His arms were already extended for her as she reconsidered. He started giving her his own stern glare, which proved to be the perfect incentive to jump. As soon as she hit the water she was in his arms, laughing with unexpected joy. She chimed for to do it again, and did so, about seven more times after. Logan decided that now would be more appropriate to incorporate some swimming lessons.

"It's real easy, kid. Just reach your arm over like this," He raised an arm over his head, hand cupped, "then you hit in in the water, do the same with the other arm, and kick your legs the whole time."

He held her in place while she practiced the mechanics of it. She was bored of the exercise shortly, requesting that their lesson stopped and for her to wade around on the steps since she couldn't touch the bottom with her feet. He carried her over and sat on the ledge. Ororo had since made her way out of the water, still receiving cat calls (which she didn't completely disgust) from horny young men.

Shortie had known that today was Independence Day, also known as the Fourth of July, but Logan had forgotten to explain the significance of the holiday. When she asked, he simply explained that today marked the anniversary of the United States officially declaring themselves a country rather than a part of the British Empire of the eighteenth century. He made it brief and frank, knowing that even though she was of above average intelligence, she was still too young to learn of the paradoxes and circumstances of the whole ordeal. In a quick reiteration, he stated that this day was centered on American freedom. She had tried to recount similar events and stigmas of the era.

"When did slavery end?" She inquired.

"1863. Why?"

"How can today be about freedom if we still had slaves? That's just stupid."

He looked at her, dumbfounded. Most kids saw today as a day full of greasy food, fireworks, s'mores, and "freedom". It had likely crossed his mind at one point, but he never actually poignantly thought about such a historical issue. It did make sense for her to think about it like that. He had been born a few short decades after the Emancipation Proclamation had signed by Lincoln. When he studied the topic, he felt a justified scorn towards the sixteenth president, who had no respect for state's rights, in his opinion. He was rather glorified for "freeing the slaves", although they didn't have much to go to after being released.

"How about I reword it: It's about freedom from the British. That's all."

Shortie had felt conflicted about this day. The aesthetics and fun were impossible to ignore, as was the hypocrisy defining the holiday. She decided to let it go and enjoy the time that they had there, rather than focus on the negative. A positive future can never be seen in the dark.

They were called from the pool to get plates and get in line for food. Logan and Shortie made about tenth in line, paper plates in their hands.

"The most American thing you can do is have a hamburger and a hot dog." He informed.

"Never had them."

"You'll like them, I'm sure."

They got their food and sat at a bench near the pool. Logan devoured the pile of food he had while Shortie picked at her burger. She couldn't explain it, but something didn't seem right with the food. Logan told her to just take a bite of it and decide if she liked it or not. She did and she nearly spit it out, but knew better, and swallowed it anyways. Her face told him more than enough. He suggested the hot dog next. She bit and swallowed, but this was even worse, and made her puke her stomach contents into the bushes she luckily reached.

Hours rolled by as the sun slowly made its decent to the mountains. There was approximately an hour or so left of sunshine left, creating a pleasant view of the sky. She noticed a large oak tree blocking the sun slightly. She made a small vow to herself to soon climb it to the very top before winter came. The girl had been picking the miscellaneous flowers from the garden that had grown too big, prompting even more competition for sunlight and water. Having herself a decent bouquet, she raced over to Logan and promptly handed them to him, beaming with an expectant face. He had developed a blush as he heard the contained giggles and awes of the surrounding mutants. Regardless, he took them and thanked her, giving her a kiss in the head. As soon as she left he tossed them to the center of the table he sat at.

Shortie ran back to pick flowers for her Auntie Jean and Uncle Scotty, as well as her favorite friend, Storm. She wanted to get some for her grandfather as well, but he wasn't outside with everybody else. She figured a picture would suffice.

When she was a few feet away from the plants, a loud spark erupted right in front of her, making her squeal in fright. She walked passed it and encountered another almost immediately. She started running from the beds, only to have the sparks fly at her within seconds from the last time. She shrieked every time, drawing attention she would not appreciate. She was suddenly picked up by Logan. She buried her face into his chest, lightly crying. He was able to figure out who the culprits were; two teenage twin brothers. If he recalled correctly, they both shared the mutation of supreme eyesight, seeing everything with clarity in the intense sun, darkness, and the ability to see everything in superb detail, thus aiding their aim.

An angry Logan sat his daughter down on a chair. He told her that he would be right back, ruffling her hair. He walked over to the unsuspecting duo, who were currently applauding their success. They were too blinded by their cockiness to see Logan behind them, and by the time they noticed him, his hands were tightly gripped on the back of their necks. He raised them off of the ground and started walking. The twins helplessly flailed about, yelling of the injustice being done to them. Their commotion diverted everybody's attention from Shortie to Logan, something she appreciated. He stopped, then threw the duo into the pool, ruining their remaining cherry bombs. He walked away before they started their bitching, which was heard in the distance. He wore a smirk as he walked over to his laughing daughter.

"Thanks daddy."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

The desserts had finally been served on a table away from the sitting area. Staff had the luxury of first selection, Logan included. He left with a slice of chocolate cake, a chocolate chip cookie, and some chocolate covered strawberries. He sat back down in his claimed spot when Shortie wormed her way into his lap. He proceeded to eat the cake, one bite to him, the next he fed to her. He split the cookie with her and gave her all of the strawberries; he was too manly to eat those.

As Shortie sucked the chocolate off of the fruit, she heard a loud boom shake the sky. She looked up and saw faded streams of gold in a willow tree like shape. She saw a light stream into the sky, exploding into a magnificent mix of red and green, with a boom following it seconds after. They all kept coming, coloring her awestruck. They came in red, green, gold, purple, blue, yellow, orange- every color she knew. Some had projected the shape of a smiley face, some into other simple objects. They reached a point in the show where they only featured red, white, and blue fireworks.

"Wow!" She yelled. Logan laughed at her wonder. "Where did these come from?"

"China, a long time ago. We set them off to resemble the sounds of guns and canon balls being fired during the war that won our independence from England. They're being set off a safe distance from here so we don't get hurt."

They had continued to flash until a magnificent two minute finale rocked the sky. The whole populace applauded the surprisingly amazing first year of fireworks. Shortie had never been so enchanted with anything in her entire life. It was only when the light of the fireworks dwindled into smoke that she realized it was dusk. The outside lights were alight, signaling that it was time for the student body to get back inside the mansion while the adults let loose.

Logan carried a tired Shortie to their bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed as she rambled on about what a great day she had. Hank and Scott passed his room, with Hank asking if Logan was going to join them in their night of debauchery. He had to decline the offer.

"I'm sure the Professor wouldn't mind just one night, Logan. You earned it." He discretely flashed some liquor from his deep pants pocket so she wouldn't see it but he would get the hint.

"Figures that you became the boring stiff parent." Scott joked as they walked away. He would've usually countered, but Logan was feeling tired that night. Parenting really took it out of him, but he didn't mind it at all.

"Daddy?" Shortie said, eyes dropping. He grunted.

"You're not boring. You kick ass." He laughed again, bending down to kiss her and say goodnight. He slept that night pleasantly, with no nightmares, just flashes of color against darkness. He smiled in his sleep, if only for a brief moment.


	8. Lips of Deceit

Time didn't really catch up with Logan until he realized that Shortie had turned five under their supervision. They neglected to mention her birth date to her, which explained the lack of celebration. The month was October and the weather was finally beautiful for little Shortie. Granted she hated the Winter months that were to come, but Autumn had a redeeming essence to it. The leaves had turned and were beginning to fall to the ground. There was never an order to any groundskeepers to maintain the yard after a certain point of the year, so the grass had grown wilder and the leaves made mountainous piles made by a handful of students. Shortie had taken this time to wander about outside with her father and a few of the adults she liked. She was even able to convince her "grandfather" Xavier to enjoy the nature of the estate. She was dressed in a heavy black hoodie, blue jeans and her own pair of Doc's Logan got her after he remembered her birthday about two months late. He never mentioned that, though.

Jean and Scott leaned against a large oak, sharing a scarf while Jean read a book and Scott just observed the scene that lay before them. Xavier was sitting next to Logan, who was keeping a watchful eye on the littlun. Ororo had been tinkering with the elements on the overcast yet dry skies. Kitty was playing with Shortie, running around like goons. Shortie abruptly stopped running and fixed her eyes upon the oak where Jean and Scott snuggled.

"What's wrong Shortie? Don't you wanna play?" Kitty inquired. She was using this time to catch her breath; she hadn't been exercising as much in the colder months. The little kid walked over to her father's plot of land and asked him if she could perhaps climb that tree.

"No, Shortie. It's too dangerous, you'll get hurt."

"No I won't! I can heal real fast anyways! If I fall you can catch me! Please!" She arched her eyebrows and brought on her demure face. He was really against the idea, but he figured that should there be a problem, he could catch her, or worse comes to worse, somebody else would. He sighed and reluctantly agreed. She wasted no time in racing over to the hardened plant.

"Uncle Scotty! Please help me get up on a branch?" She asked sweetly. He smirked and got from his comfortable spot. He grabbed his "niece" by the hips and placed her on the lowest stable branch provided. She eagerly started to make her way up.

"Hey, short stuff!" Her father called out. "Test a branch first. If you hear it crack, don't go on it!"

"Okay!" She really couldn't be concerned with everybody's ramblings, and ascended the tree. Logan had estimated it to be around two hundred feet in height. He was worried, but he deduced that she'd run out of energy before she would even begin to get close to the top. His thoughts were internally interrupted by a psychic with something to say.

_"I must say, Logan, I'm quite impressed with little Shortie's testing. She had scored in advanced in history and English. I suppose next would be science and mathematics?"_

"_Sure, I guess. I ain't teaching her that shit, that's Eddies jurisdiction."_

"_I'm sure he'd be happy to educate her. She's quite the precocious child. Generally well behaved, reserved, intelligent, and very beautiful. You must be proud."_

"You know, I guess I am." He outwardly smiled. He was a pretty proud papa indeed. He glanced at the tree and saw she was about ten feet higher than she was before. "Don't go to the top!" He yelled. She wasn't exactly listening though. She was back on her own little planet.

"So do tell me, Logan, what is a typical day for you?" Ororo asked. She had filtered out some water from the ground and let the stream enter her mouth. Logan smirked, to which she used the remains of her drink to splash in his face.

"Well if you're dying to know, darlin, we wake up, eat, I teach her something in history or with speech, lunch, more studying, then just a bunch of free time. It's like I'm working from home and I actually choose what I teach. But that's gonna change with the new semester next month." He frowned when he realized that there would be significantly less time for him and her to be together, but he knew that being around each other twenty-four seven wasn't going to be healthy either, at least in the long run. It wasn't fair though. He was mostly irritated and annoyed with small children. He had never met such an innocent adult in his life before his daughter. He hated realizing how obsessed he was, but with a miracle like that, who wouldn't be? She was the best inconvenience he could've ever asked for.

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out. Who's teaching her next semester?"

"Eddie. He's gonna bash the boring shit in her brain."

Jean had closed her book and made her way back to the mansion, and Scott followed. The rest were all sitting in a near circle in the yard. Kitty asked, "So you like being a dad after all, huh? I never expected to see that of you."

He just rolled his eyes and deployed other annoyed actions when they bombarded him with questions about the parenting lifestyle. "If you're all so goddam interested, have some mutants of your own. It's a grand time."

"Nah, I like watching after her when it's easy, without paying for her living and taking up all my time."

"You make it sound like a bad thing." Ororo stated.

"For my age, yeah. But he's at the perfect stage in his life to have kids, right around the the second century mark."

They all heard a branch snap and fall to the ground. They all darted their eyes to the tree and saw Shortie about half way up its length. "Sorry!" She yelled. Logan gave her a thumbs up, for she had heeded his lecture on the weaker branches. She continued to climb. She had made it her goal to be able to climb to the very top. The sky was finally breaking and the hues of an orange and indigo sunset could only be enjoyed at the top. She used to be petrified of heights, but after being struck by lightening, she had begun to lose of her fear of the world. If the forces of nature couldn't take her down, what could?

"Two hundred. It felt like two fucking thousand. There better not be two more hundred years left in me."

Kitty had bombarded Logan with basic sentence structure and annoying questions. His patience hadn't lasted him long before he had barked at her to leave. She gave a mischievous giggle as she motioned for Ororo to join her. The ladies had left the two gentlemen to themselves under the chilly wind. Logan was feeling pretty tired, which was noticed by Charles.

Shortie had made it to the edge of the apex of the tree. She had a death grip on the only branch above her head as she leaned out past the leaves to absorb the approaching dusk. Daylight's final fires dwindled with the descending sun. When it had hit the mountain, it only took a minute to submerge itself to the frequented unknown. She was satisfied and began her descent. She safely made her way all the way down to the first sets of branches at the bottom. Shortie called out for her father to catch her as she jumped. He walked over and caught the minute child in his strong arms.

"Daddy, I'm tired."

"Me too, kid. I guess we can turn in early or something."

"_She can "turn in early". As for you, Logan; there is a whole new semester starting tomorrow, and you're back to teaching history to an array of disinterested students. You could use a few hours for preparation." _

Logan growled menacingly, making Shortie giggle. A strike against him was she wasn't afraid of his explosive anger, although it's never specifically aimed at her. The trio had made their way into the mansion, each going to their designated stations of the time being. Logan had laid Shortie down on her bed, wrapping blankets around her and spending her last few conscious minutes with her.

"Daddy, how come you never show me your claws?"

"You could get hurt, sweetheart. It's happened enough before."

"I still wanna see them." He sighed and extended his left arm away from her, letting his triplet set of claws pierce his skin slowly. She mouthed a "wow" as they slid back into his arm. "Daddy, when are you going to die?"

He wasn't ready for a morbidly heavy and personal inquiry. He stared, a little dumbfounded, at his child. "No time soon, why?"

She played with her hands. "I heard some of the kids say their parents died when they were little."

"I'm not gonna die on you, Shortie."

"I don't wanna die before you, daddy." Logan kissed her cheek and reassured her that he was far from dying for a long time. He stroked her artificially colored hair until she peacefully was carried down into sleep. He silently left the room and advanced towards his old classroom. The teacher holding his place hadn't changed anything that Logan had set up, much to his delight. The reduction in time he was going to spend with his daughter opened, in his mind, a chance to revive his old debauched habits, so long as she wasn't close enough to bear witness.

Logan had made an outline of his lectures for the semester to come within two hours, and already he was longing for the end of the year. He really wanted to go to sleep right then and there, but Charles had told him to see him in Eddie's lab as soon as he could. He wasn't sure what was coming of this, but he wasn't too excited about it. Come to think of it, he was never really excited for anything.

He had arrived in Eddie's lab in a matter of minutes. The scientist was busy tinkering away with some beakers before making his way to a biology computer thing he had. Logan wasn't too caught up with contemporary technology, so he had no idea what most of the machines in the room were or were capable of.

"Glad you could make it." Xavier had said. There were two chairs, presumably for Eddie and Logan, stationed opposite where Charles sat. Logan took a seat and Eddie soon followed, holding a slender stack of papers in his hands.

"We have executed further examination of Shortie's genealogy and DNA synthesis. We found some interesting data."

"Such as?"

"Well, her amphibious alleles on her X-chromosomes have a period of dormancy embedded in their codes, which I project to take effect when she is around eight or so. It won't be until a few short years she experiences tangible mutations again. What they'll be is still a mystery. But we were able to analyze her primary mutation set. It's much weaker than her next set will become, which explains her waned version of your powers. The active chromosome alleles at the present time were inherited from you, Logan. Her secondary set will be strictly maternal."

"So she's gonna be normal for a few years, then get stronger and new powers?"

"Basically."

"Do you know all of her current mutations?"

"On a literal scale, no. I would expire before I could count every single mutation occurring in transcription. However, for her _mutation _mutations, she has a healing factor just under the standard of yours, as well as approximately triple the average strength of a female her age and size."

"So is she healthy, all and all."

Eddie had sighed. "Yes, she is. I expect her to live a healthy and average lifespan."

"Good." Logan nodded. The silence for a few seconds helped Logan further register the ramifications of Eddie's hypothesis. Average lifespan was around seventy or so years old. "Hey Beastie Boy, what did she get from me again?"

He coughed uncomfortably. "Your healing and strength. For now."

"And you're sure nothing else of mine's gonna be with her later at all?!" He was almost yelling.

"I'm terribly sorry Logan."

Logan had stormed out of the lab in a blind ferocity. He wasn't set to maim or kill; it was disgustingly vague. He ran to the front yard of the estate into the rain. The two hadn't bothered to chase him in his given state. He fell to his knees and wept in his hands. Emasculation was gripping his neck.

What kind of future could he provide for her on this basis? Eventually he'd have to tell her. If that wasn't catastrophic enough, he'd still look to be in his thirties by the time he became a grandfather (although he'd never let that even happen). She would be an old lady and he would still be a young man. If they were seen together, she'd be mistaken for _his _mother. Of the many times he wished for the curse of immortality to be erased, he never felt it as intensely.

His cries in the rain had been silent, much like the style of his daughter's. He had never taken this into account, but another reason why he had never wanted children was because he would have to watch them grow old, feeble, then die, like everybody else he knew and knows. He had pushed an awful to the back of his mind successfully for a while, but it had reemerged to him like a retrovirus: losing his son, Daken.

The twisted convolutions and deceit that served as the boy's life foundation was what killed him in the end. The memory was foggy, but he knew it was a battle. Too many mangled dead surrounded the images in his mind not to be. He had not only lost his son in the fire, but his clone, appropriately named X-23. He couldn't remember who he was fighting or why they were there, but he wished he couldn't remember anything. His life was a chase to find the truth only to get burned by it.

He picked himself up from the melodramatic outburst and went back inside. He had showered and dried himself before slipping into his bedroom. He had been mindful not to wake up Shortie, but her sensitive ears heard his movements and triggered her awake. He smiled at her weakly and crawled into his bed. She crawled over to him and wiped his face gingerly. "What are you doing, short stuff?"

"I know you were crying."

"I was not." He quietly barked. She didn't need to persist him on the matter, but kissed his cheek and gave him a hug.

"Daddy, please don't die before me. I'll miss you too much."

He turned off the lamp that provided a light glow and held her close to his heart. "I won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I love you, Shortie." He kissed her head and began to cry again. She couldn't notice as she was asleep. How he has wished he wore lips of deceit, but he was beginning to fully realize that nature had failed him; the parent will bury the child this time. He hadn't cried himself to sleep since he was a child.


	9. Vicinity of Obscenity

"Motherfucking cock sucker!"

"You're such a juvenile insult, you damn moron!"

"Bite my fat dick you faggot schlongaholic!"

"Asshole, your daughter is right on the couch-"

"Don't you even fucking dare suck her into this you Goddamn bastard!"

Shortie winced as she heard her father yell at Scott in a "controlled rage", or so he had explained to her before. As she recollected, the two men were in an intense argument that started with Scott's accusation that Logan was eying Jean like a starving wolf does a hunk of meat. The battle hadn't escalated to a physical one yet, but the words were stabbing at Shortie's patience. Certainly, she enjoyed a light vulgarity once in a blue moon, but they had hardly ever been "curse words". The temperature outside was freezing, but this battle was quickly heating up.

"You see those eyes? MY eyes. You see that hair? MY hair. You see those tits? MY tits!" Scott jabbed.

"You keep acting like a pussy bitch, and watch her leave for a real man."

Logan wasn't in pursuit of Jean, and hadn't been in a long time, but he still considered her to be one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. It wasn't like he had only looked at her; Ororo had caught his eye, especially in the summer months when she donned the dark bikini; not to mention his numerous partners throughout his life time. He considered it a look-but-no-touch ordeal. Besides, she was wearing a V-Neck as she bent down to pull out the last turkey from the oven. A sexy red head cooking mouthwatering foul. Who the fuck wouldn't look?

Scott wanted to do nothing more than to blast the bastard, the only restraint on him being he didn't want to traumatize Shortie as she sat on the couch, watching them intently. She was mildly entertained with a splash of disgust. The fight that had been erupting for a few minutes was broken up by the annoyed subject, telling the two immature boys to get to the damn table and prepare for dinner. Logan took Shortie into his arms and walked into their designated dining area.

Thanksgiving at the X Mansion was a fiasco every single year, yet the gluttonous holiday prevailed annually. To accommodate the massive crowd of students, they held the feast in the cafeteria. Teachers were evenly distributed amongst the students as a means to keep them under control should they act up. Xavier held the honor of sitting at the head of the gargantuan table, at least one of the two. They took up the whole room when combined with the buffet-style food tables. All were told to be dressed nicely, and if possible, in autumn colors. Logan begrudgingly wore dark tan pants and a black button down. Shortie was dressed in a little black dress with buckled shoes. Earlier, Ororo had spent the better part of an hour curling the child's hair. With her eyes that seemingly alternated from blue to green and vice versa, she was absolutely radiant. The dark skinned woman couldn't help but kiss the fuck out of her face, which Shortie didn't mind at all.

Rather than having her own seat, Shortie sat on Logan's lap and decided to pick at his plate, not having a huge appetite, contrasting her father's, who would likely make multiple trips. All of the attendee's were situated as Xavier wheeled to his position at the head of the one table. The other was ambiguously headed by Ororo. It was tradition that Xavier initiated the list of what they were thankful for all together. Like every year past, he was thankful for the students being able to be banded together in a nurturing and instructive environment. The rule was that until ten genuine thankful interjections were made, nobody was to leave the table and get food. Multiple people hammered their half serious gratitude's; he only found nine in five minutes. He didn't hold it against them, but he couldn't help but let his face fall in disappointment in his student's collective ungrateful nature. None of the non-telepaths could distinguish any statements.

Shortie was introduced to the concept of the holiday that morning. She was bluntly told by Logan that it was not a day of peace and banquet between the Natives and the Pilgrims, rather the beginning of one of the most powerful Goddamn genocides in history. The stories shocked her to the core, but now that seemed to be a recurring element in his history lessons. Still, it had been indoctrinated into a day where gluttony was placed over the concern of the lesser men. One theme of the day that she actually appreciated was the thankfulness that was associated with it. She racked her brain; what was she really thankful for? Soon she found an answer she was content with.

She slowly raised her hand in the sea of sound. Charles noticed, sending a telepathic message to everybody to be silenced. Everybody turned to see her hand drop. She was nervous to be the center of attention, but she knew that she had to proclaim what was in her mind rather than focus on something so damn insignificant.

"I'm..." She shied into Logan's chest. He gently rubbed her back and told her to go on, that he was right behind her. To raise her, he stood and placed her upon his shoulders, truly placing her in the spotlight. She took a deep breath, knowing that expressing it would get her out of that situation sooner.

"Thank you for letting me live here, Grandpa. I love living with Auntie Jean, Uncle Scotty and Auntie Ro. I love my friends Kitty, Rogue and Eddie. I love the food," That incited some laughter, "most of all, I love daddy. He kicks major ass." She mimicked the last part as he recited to her on almost a daily basis. Xavier had never heard a more sincere thank you from such a young child. He decided that it was time to feast.

Most were now on their second and third helpings. Shortie had taken this time to discover she loved the mashed and sweet potatoes the most out of all of the food. Logan egged her to try the turkey but she utterly refused, threatening to throw a temper tantrum, the likes of which would be previously unseen. She found that she had a bigger stomach than she thought, devouring most of the fruits and vegetables from his plate. He really only got them for her, shoveling a bit at a time into her mouth for her, knowing she wasn't the best at pacing herself, as seen when she tried to eat on her own after a bit, nearly chocking on green beans.

"Jesus fucking Christ kid, nobody's gonna steal it from you, slow the fuck down." She frowned deeply, but complied.

The wine had filled the cups of all who were seated, the only time that the school had ever allowed alcohol consumption by minors. Logan only offered her a small sip of his. She liked it, but not enough to try it again any time soon, the fermented fruit being a bit strong for her virgin throat. Unbeknownst to everybody, Logan had furtively filled his water glass with his moonshine he saved for weekends and holidays. It was the only thing, that if consistently consumed, would actually sport a worthy drunk for him. None of the students had ever been around something so strong, so those who neighbored him and Shortie simply shrugged it off as the wine. He had a pitcher full of it. By now he actually learned how to enjoy the taste.

The dessert trays had soon been rolled out for the hungry populace to devour. Logan had both not a sweet tooth nor the motivation to move and compromise his intensifying buzz. Shortie had went and finally filled a plate, granted with multiple sweets, including her namesake, shortcake. She climbed back into his lap and was about to eat, but was pulled back to him in a tight hug.

"Oh how I fucking love you, Shortie!" He proclaimed with his eyes shut. She writhed, desperately wanting her sweets. He eventually let go. She rolled her eyes. It made sense that the only time she didn't want his affection, he gets all cuddly. His rambling had only begun, as nearly three quarters of the students were leaving their banquet, ten pounds heavier than they arrived. The staff had then moved next to one another, all near Logan's station, that was only a few seats down from Xavier. He and Scott were giving each other nasty looks, as usual.

"Hey, cutie pie," Hank had said, "what you said was very sweet."

She began to say that she really meant it, but she was cut off by Logan's proclamation; "Did you hear how fucking much this kid loves us. So Goddamn unbelievable how smart you are, baby. You better not let those brains melt to fucking mush, you hear? I'll beat the living shit out of ya." He roared in laughter while she look mortified, arching her eyebrows and hanging her mouth open, at least for a few moments.

"What did you like most, sweetie?" Jean had asked. "Did you try my turkey? I've been making them all day."

Shortie looked a bit guilty, admitting that she had not due to her bad past experiences with the meat she had tried so far. Since there were (surprisingly) leftovers, she promised to eat some later.

"I tried to get the little bastard to try it, but she's stubborn as a fuckin' mule. You're a Goddamn brat sometimes, you little shit." He gave her a ruffle of the hair. She wore a distinctive scowl.

"Logan, please take a conscious effort to watch your language." Charles warned.

"I always talk like this, what the hell are you riding my ass for? Party a little, you old bastard."

"Shortie does not need to take this examp-"

"How the hell did you not fuckin' hear her say that I kick ass earlier? She doesn't give a shit about what I say." Her scowl deepened.

They all just decided to let it go and let him relish in whatever he was gaining from being the vicinity of obscenity. The adults had been conversing on various topics, downing the wine like it was water. They weren't alcoholics, or anywhere near Logan's standard of seasoned, but it would take a lot of wine each to get them intoxicated. They were slightly astounded that they had lost track of the glasses they had each, and when they felt a satisfying buzz, they slowed down, some even stopped. Jean and Ororo clanked their glasses together for one more, as the classy women they were.

Shortie was bored then. She could tell the adults were tipsy, and from what she heard from the other students as they walked out, drunk people were easier to pry truth and stories out of. She figured that she could use this time to hear a cool story about one of them. She turned to her hero.

"Daddy?"

"What is it, pumpkin?" He said, chuckling and hugging her.

"What was the weirdest thing that happened to you ever?" She curiously asked. He made a "bssh" sound and thought for a moment.

"I guess it would go back to when I lived in that icy wasteland in Canada. I was in the bathroom of a titty bar-"

"Logan!" Ororo snapped, head gesturing to the minor sitting in his lap, "I don't think this story is appropriate."

"What? All that fuckin' happened was I put my dick in-"

"What's a dick, daddy?"

"Something you're never going to fucking see as long as I'm alive." Everybody's face was aghast at his crude behavior. They were disgusted at how inappropriate he was acting in front of his own child, particularly Jean, Ororo, and Charles. Scott's vindictive side was hoping he would get worse as he cockily smirked at each remark.

"Are you drunk, Logan?" Hank asked, a bit on the angrier side, "I thought it took a lot to get you loaded."

"Yeah, if you're stickin' with the fucking pussy liquor."

Shortie quietly stated, "Daddy, I don't think you should be swearing so much."

"Honey, listen here. I'm the adult. I can say whatever the fuck I want, when the fuck I want, to who the fuck I want to. Got it?" She angrily and reluctantly nodded.

"Logan, please take heed to what she says. It's proving to be quite cumbersome and rude."

"So fucking what? Shit! Piss! Fuck! Cock sucker! Motherfucker! Tits! Twat! Asshole! Dick head! Pussy! Cun-"

He received a swift and sharp slap in the face from Shortie before he could finish the last word. She stood in his lap to reach his face. Everybody's face dropped in complete shock. They were worried that he was going to lose his temper, and God forbid, hit her back. He felt his cheek with his hand, rubbing it a bit. It looked quizzically at her, still scowling.

"I'm not sorry, daddy."

He sighed, "You shouldn't be, I should. I'm sorry honey. I guess I should start filtering around ya." He hated restricting his first amendment. As a mutant, rights were seldom granted, so he more than indulged in the naughty language. He didn't want to be like the rest of the parents that went out of their way to shelter their kids from vulgarity. He still wasn't exactly going to, but he was certainly going to make an effort to watch his tongue more often. He had a hard enough time keeping his rage locked away, so this couldn't possibly be that bad.

"Daddy? If you do have to say bad words, please don't say the c word. That's very dirty."

"You're right, sweet heart. You're growing into a classy young lady." He held and kissed the girl in his arms, who was soon being carried down into the recesses of sleep. He excused himself from the table to put her to bed, likely to join her. The whole time he walked up to their room, she would randomly go into bursts of giggles. When he laid her down and she continued, he just had to ask why she was laughing like she was being seized by a tickle monster.

"I'm in the museum!" She said.

"Of?"

"The happy thoughts I've been thinking."

"Am I an exhibit?"

"Maybe."

"Don't be a smart ass."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, sweet heart. I love you." He kissed her on the head and told her goodnight. He laid on his own bed and passed out. Holy fucking jumping shit balls did he want another drink.


	10. Whiskey in the Jar

Logan reminisced on times passed not so long ago, the days of which were filled with a ceaseless pool of miraculous tragedies and forced fates. A string of faithful yet ill-fated romances tightened their loins on the grasp of his theta-waves. Idiosyncratically, he went through periods of remission from a painful life, only to have the delusion of peace raped from him once more, colder than the last time. It had been these such circumstances that pushed Logan to become the introverted loner; a personality that only made him even more desirable, and consequently, more unattainable. It was only in the present when he'd actually have to worry about the petty problem of tooth decay.

Getting Shortie to adopt the habit of brushing her teeth regularly proved to be challenge enough to drive Logan back into drinking, with what little comfort it provided for him. He didn't clement and get her children's toothpaste, introducing her to the burning mint. Her teeth were initially yellowed and brittle, and the process of strengthening them proved to be just as delicate. He had been the one to brush for her for about a month until she finally gave into the hygienic procedure and began to clean them herself.

He had also been the one who had been primarily bathing her, since Ororo and Jean insisted that they weren't obligated to so on the basis that they were females. The latter even hinted that he had about two more years of bathing before she'd be old enough to shower herself. She was a hellion in the tub, thrashing about to "swim" and hide in her fortress of excessive bubbles. Once she was settled, Logan had an easier time actually getting her clean. Getting Shortie out of the tub proved to be the most arduous task, as she refused every time. The end result was always a red-faced and soaked Logan holding his toweled daughter as he walked back to their room from the bath room that they used.

He was the least bit happy that he wasn't the one who had to do her clothes shopping, only needing to supply the funds. But other than that skipped obligation, he was truly saddled with the single parent responsibility. It was convenient that she didn't require/request any commuting to anywhere, and that she lived at her school, especially given her mutations.

What was superbly inconvenient and haunted Logan nearly every waking moment, even when in the recesses of his mind, was that he wouldn't be a reliable parent. Naturally he'd protect and care for her to the best of his abilities, but for how long? Things on the outside had been relatively quiet as of late, much to his relief, but what about when he's inevitably forced to take care of a crisis, and could be gone for quite a long time? He feared that he'd miss out on the major stepping stones in her early life. Given his childhood, he had made a promise to himself hat she'd have the best years of her life growing up to the greatest extent he could muster.

Said child was moaning on her bed in the middle of the night, only audible enough for her father to hear without causing a disturbance to the other sleeping residents (how benevolent). The source of her vocalized pain was her first tooth about to be lost. It was loose enough to move if small force was applied, but it was far from ready to come out. This had been the case for several nights, much to Logan's chagrin. It wasn't the fact that he was being woken up for the past week, but it killed him to feel so utterly useless, to not be able to relieve her of the trivial pain as she wept in his arms. He gently rocked her and stroked her hair, hoping to coax her back into sleep. He never expected teeth to be the cause of his current frustration.

"Daddy, it really hurts."

"I know it does, darlin'. Just try to ignore it."

"I can't! It's throbbing." She gingerly rubbed her mandible.

"Just let me rip the damn thing outta your mouth, it'll be over in five seconds."

He had never received such a nasty stink eye in his life.

He racked his brain for a solution. The Orajel they had applied before had done next to nothing to alleviate her pain. They had tried ice as well with no success. Shortie had resorted to twisting and contorting her body as well as balling her hands into fists as a means to channel her pain externally. She had inadvertently kicked his nightstand, opening its small door; and that's when his solution found him. He placed her sitting up on his bed as he bent down to the nightstand and pulled out one of his stashed whiskeys. A new bottle, he ripped of the seal and unscrewed the bottle. He dipped his index finger inside for a moment, then placed it in her mouth, delicately rubbing the pained area.

"You might not like the taste, but nothing helps a toothache better."

"But I like it, daddy." She honestly countered. He gave her a quizzical look.

"You're such a little liar." He chuckled.

"Am not." She coolly said as she took the bottle and drank a small sip. Though she genuinely liked the taste, she did not favor the burn it left. She also noticed that the pain in her mouth was gone. Logan's expression was an acute mix of exasperation and pride. He took the bottle, screwed the cap back on, and placed it back in its original spot.

"Listen here, it's only for your toothaches, understand?" He asked, eyes locked on her's.

"Yes. Thanks daddy."

She kissed his cheek and gave him a hug, both actions he returned. She sat in his lap and leaned into his torso, then requested some midnight reading. Agreeing, he picked her up and playfully threw her onto the bed before getting up to grab a book. It wasn't that she particularly payed attention to the content of the text, she just found it quite comforting, like a white noise. The duo cuddled into his bed as he began reading aloud yet hushed, _the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. _When he was certain she was asleep, he closed the book and subsequently joined her.

The following morning had been quite. As they awoke, she felt the pain in her mouth, prompting a massage to her jaw. Logan saw this, then whipped out the whiskey and applied his liquor finger to her tooth. With that done, she ventured into the kitchen to grab breakfast, something sacred to her. She encountered Scott sitting at the table, eating cereal. He leaned from his chair to embrace his niece with a hug and kiss to the head. Shaking the box, he invited her to eat with him. Shortie began talking as he was getting her bowl.

"Guess what, Uncle Scotty?"

"What?" He asked as he poured the cereal into her bowl from behind her. He then grabbed the milk and began to pour.

"I love whiskey! It tastes so good!"

Upon hearing that, his face froze in a troubled expression as he dropped the milk, spilling it everywhere. He looked into her face that was starting to tear. He wasn't sure how to address this, but felt it necessary.

"Did you just say... that you like whiskey? Where did you get that?"

"Daddy put some on my tooth to make it stop hurting." She began to cry to herself.

Scott wasn't known for his nurturing aura, and he had no idea how to provide comfort to her. He figured he scared her into believing that he was angry with her. He pieced together her story and concluded that Logan merely gave her some to help with her toothache. Should the story have run in the direction he initially presumed it would, he was going to have a field day with giving Logan hell about it. Shortie placed her hand in the puddle on the table that led to the rest of the milk on the ground.

"Hey, hey, hey, you know you shouldn't cry over a glass of spilled milk."

"I wouldn't, but you just wasted a whole gallon! And it's not even noon yet."

Scott awkwardly gave her a hug in hopes to comfort her. By that time, Logan had been in the kitchen as well, accusing Scott of hurting his daughter somehow, threatening him like any other day. Scott angrily explained that me merely spilled the milk and she was overreacting. Logan responded to this by pulling out another gallon from the refrigerator and placing it in front of her, earning a smile.

"Seeing as you're dirty already, why don't you clean this up?" Logan jeered.

Had Shortie not been there, Scott's glare would have evolved into an optic blast directed at the wolf man.

The following hours had been uneventful for the relatively new family; Logan taught his afternoon classes while Shortie read in Xavier's office as he instructed his students. She hadn't been paying attention, but she'd occasionally listen to what was being facilitated when her book became monotonous. Her adoptive grandfather graced a smile in her direction a few times when he was met with his own silence in between points in his lecture. Shortie wasn't exactly appreciative of the baby faces made from the students in an effort to get her to laugh or smile. It was bad enough she was looked down upon stature wise.

When the room was empty, Shortie had taken the opportunity to sit upon his desk and inform him of her impending tooth loss. He smiled at the young child, reliving the innocence they carry, if only for a moment.

"My dear, do you know of the Tooth Fairy?"

She shook her head to indicate she did not.

"She's a tiny creature who exchanges money for children's fallen teeth. If you place it underneath your pillow and fall asleep, she will make the switch and you will awake with money."

"That's a lie!" She accused.

"It's understandable to be a bit apprehensive about such a claim. Just wait until it falls out, and we'll see whether or not she's fictitious."

"Okay grandad."

When Shortie was bathed and in her pajamas, she was told that she was allowed to stay up a bit later than usual because it was Friday night. Logan had been preoccupied with sorting and grading the history essays he had informed the students of three months ago; a twenty page assignment. As if they didn't think he was a big enough hard ass. He would never admit it, but he garnered a slight sadistic pleasure from giving heavy duty assignments. If that was their biggest problem, then they were pretty damn lucky.

She wanted to spend her remaining conscious hours with her father, so she darted from the bedroom with his classroom as her destination. Unfortunately, she only made it a few feet from the room before she tripped and fell on her face. When she got up, she felt something minute and hard rattling in her mouth, then spit the infamous tooth out into her hand. She also saw the blood that accompanied it. The pain flowed with her blood. She went back into the bedroom and grabbed the whiskey from the nightstand.

She took a generous swig, and a bit easier as well, considering that she'd been taking very small amounts over the the twenty four hours, and that the oral pain outdid the burn. Her mouth still throbbed, so she took a few more swigs until she noticed about a quarter of the bottle was gone. The pain was starting to subside. She simply sat in the dark room, swallowing tears, taking sips every few minutes to dull the throb. After almost ten minutes, she gave up and finished the last half of the bottle.

What she knew was that since she could heal herself, foreign substances wouldn't really have a lasting effect, but would for a bit, as her healing factor was much more delayed compared to that of her father's, or so Hank had told her during one of her check-ups. In essence, there weren't any real repercussions of her small body taking in so much alcohol.

But now she was feeling something. She felt her movements feel much more fluid. She even felt an inexplicable elation. The pain was completely neutralized now, so she started, much more slowly, for the classroom again. Absentmindedly, she carried the empty bottle in her hand. She had not encountered anybody in her travels, leaning against the walls for support.

"Musha rain dumado dumada!" She chanted thrice.

It took her much longer than expected to reach the door. She stood outside of his field of sight. She didn't know how to exactly approach-

"I know you're standing there, darlin'."

Before she finally walked into his room, her elation suddenly descended into depression. She felt every negative emotion she knew. As she walked into the classroom, she began sobbing. Logan looked up to see his daughter, crying with an empty bottle of whiskey in her hand. He also noticed as he sobbed, her troublesome tooth missing.

"D-d-add-y-y-y" She cried.

He wanted to be mad at her, but he couldn't bring himself to be. Instead, he chuckled as he walked to where she stopped and stood, and scooped her into his arms and started to walk out of the room. A quick epiphany came to him as he disposed of the bottle into a file cabinet near the door. He gently rubbed her back as they went back to their room, again not encountering anybody.

"I didn't want to lose a tooth and find a fake fucking fairy." She rambled grumpily and buzzed, sobbing subsiding. She was steadily feeling the way she did before she drank, but the pain in her mouth wasn't coming back. Logan took her into the bathroom to splash some cold water in her face. When they were finally back in their room, he pulled out a stash of beef jerky he had deeper inside the nightstand.

"Eat. It'll sober you up even faster."

She finished the bag in ten minutes, and by then, felt completely normal again.

"You're real lucky, kid. Most people have to suffer a hangover afterward. Not to mention drinking that much would have killed you if you weren't a mutant, ya know." He gave a frown of disapproval to discourage her behavior.

"I'm sorry daddy. I love you." She extended her arms for a hug.

"I know."

He bent down and hugged her small frame. Whenever he did, he was reminded just how small and delicate she was, healing not a factor to him. He knew that love was an investment that usually indebted him, but he couldn't help himself with his little girl.

"Now get your ass to bed. I could be a hard ass about this, but I'll forgive ya this time since your tooth fell out." He tucked her into her own bed, kissed her cheek, and waited until she was asleep before he left. He still had many papers to check.

Only a few feet from the door, he noticed the tooth that had fallen out. He wasn't sure why he did, but he picked it up from the floor and gently placed it underneath her pillow before he left the room.

Unbeknownst to Shortie, a certain uncle of hers had furtively infiltrated the bedroom. He slipped some money underneath her pillow and taking the tooth, being careful not to wake her up. He left the room, quietly wishing her goodnight.

When she woke up the next morning, she heard a crinkling whenever she moved her head. She pushed on her pillow, finding that it was the source of the sound. She removed it and had to contain a squeal of pure, unexpected joy when she found a twenty dollar bill. She immediately woke up Logan and proclaimed that the Tooth Fairy must have been real.

She showed her grandfather as well, apologizing for not believing him. As she raced to tell Auntie Jean, Uncle Scotty, and Auntie Ro, Xavier asked Logan why he was so generous with the funds.

"Wasn't me."

He found her in the living room with Jean and Scott, chiming away at her great victory. Logan noticed a subtle smirk on Scott's face. He walked to Logan and gave him a small box he said he obtained from Hank. Inside was the tooth that she lost last night. Logan gave him a look that mixed resentment and gratitude.

"By the way," Scott chimed, "you need to go and buy some more milk."


	11. Joy, Joy, Joy

"Higher, daddy, higher!"

Logan was laughing along with his daughter as he tossed her into the air per her request. Ever since that fateful day that entailed her being struck by lightening, she had been slowly but surely conquering the fears that plagued her so. The first that she defeated was her acrophobia, and has ever since taken a serious liking to heights, unlike many other residents of the world. Logan had scolded her many times on the offense of her climbing the gargantuan trees without his knowledge or consent. But she managed to weasel her way out of every punishment/grounding by exploiting his soft side with her innocence and seemingly genuine sorrow.

He hoisted and released her with a bit more strength, a subconscious worry of somehow dropping her ever present. He had been impressed by her flourishing bravery, feeling a type of pride that was foreign to him. They had been at this game for about ten minutes, and he wondered how she still garnered enjoyment from the trivial action. Ororo (also referred to as "Auntie Ro") had been present with them, monitoring the weather to ensure that the sun shined for their little sunshine.

"Be careful, little girl. We don't need you falling and getting hurt." Ororo lightly teased.

"I wish I could fly like you! Then I could be as tall as daddy, then in the sky!"

Ororo chuckled. "Your daddy isn't that tall, sweetie."

"Don't start." Logan growled insecurely.

Shortie requested that she be let down, then examined both Ororo and her father. Requesting them to stand next to each other, she was disappointed to find that Howlett was in fact shorter than Munroe. She spent the better part of an hour wandering around the campus with her father, comparing heights with him always turning out to be the shortest. This had only expanded on Logan's insecurity with his height, though he would never admit it, or people like Scott would never let him live it down.

"Don't feel bad, daddy. You're still taller than me." She lowered her head in shame.

"You got a lot of years of growin' ahead of ya, kid. If your lucky enough, ya didn't get my short genes."

"I don't have that many years left! Only around twenty!" She lamented melodramatically.

"Here." He crouched down to her level and placed her upon his shoulders, a new experience for the both of them.

"Wherever you want to go, kiddo. Let's show off how much you just grew."

She uncontrollably giggled as they walked to and fro, summoning those who they compared to earlier to gloat. They had all played along with her antics, many surprised at her behavior, as half were students she was too afraid to approach before. Scott only held back his bitter sarcasm for the sake of his niece, while Jean went the extra mile and feigned crying, citing that she had always been the short one, despite even towering Logan comparatively by three inches.

"Don't feel bad, Auntie Jean. I'll give you a piggy back when I'm stronger and you can be the tallest. Uncle Scotty, you're on your own."

The couple laughed nicely.

"You're too much for me, Shortie. Keep that charm, it will be a great help when you get interested in boys."

Logan tensed at the mention of boys while Shortie made a disgusted face. She proceeded to explain that she was too independent to worry about getting a man, much to his pleasure. He could only hope that she intended to carry on that attitude until she was at least fifty years old. The light banter being exchanged was interrupted by sudden lightening polluting the sound waves. A string of five or so bolts surrounded Ororo as they watched from the windows; she was practicing. She had made sure to wait until they duo were inside. Shortie was completely enamored by the power she saw being displayed.

"Let's go outside, daddy! The lightning's calling me!"

"No. You only need to be struck once per lifetime." Logan slipped out.

"What?!" Jean and Scott shouted with alarm and underlying anger.

"I was playing outside a while ago and got hit by lightning, but it didn't even hurt me!" She triumphantly crossed her arms over her chest as she turned her nose in the air.

"And you didn't inform anybody?" Scott inquired. Logan could only blame himself for this; he explained that even if she were hurt, it would have been very temporary. Shortie didn't like the bickering that his ensued, so she leaned forward, grasped the top of Scott's head, and gave a loud smack of a kiss.

"There. Now you can't be mad anymore."

He sighed, sensing a loss coming his way.

"Guess I can't argue with that logic." He smiled.

Until the skies fell dark, Shortie had been enjoying the shoulder ride directed by her father. She enjoyed the taller perspective much more than her miniscule stature. Even Logan felt as if she were an extension of him, both literally and figuratively. He had asked his daughter what she wanted to do for the rest of her waking hours.

"I heard on the news a meteor shower was tonight. Can we please watch it?"

He looked out the windows to reveal overcast. He didn't want to disappoint her, but it wasn't like he could control the weather. He gently explained that the skies weren't allowing a stargazing session, much to her dismay. She asked to be led into the kitchen for a snack, and he complied, feeling he at least owed her that since she wasn't being a brat about not being allowed outside that night. As soon as he let her off of his shoulders and his nose was in the refrigerator, she bolted like a bat out of hell, racing for her spot in the backyard. He had been right behind her, and caught her in his arms as soon as she halted on the black top. She protested as he carried her back into the mansion.

"I told ya, it's too cloudy to watch the comets. That little stunt's landing you some grounding time."

She didn't take his threat seriously, as she knew how to pry herself from the grasp of punishment. She looked into the sky, seeing a breaking of the clouds, revealing brilliantly burning stars casting a luminescent glow upon the Earth. Within the small hole, she saw a steak of light pass by at a great speed. It was followed by another, then even more as the sky became clearer.

"Daddy! Look!"

He turned around, against his initial instincts, to see what she had, nearly half of the sky cleared at this point. This meteor shower proved to be unlike any other, as they saw hues of indigo, blue, and orange paint the outer space as streaks of meteors graced the horizon.

"You're shitting me..." He muttered in disbelief.

His moment of stupor allowed Shortie to escape from his grasp and run to the center of the yard, the best viewing area on the land. Logan followed her in complete amazement. Soon after, line-like waves of aquamarine crossed over the skies, oscillating delicately within the cosmos. They had enjoyed the beautiful panorama for a few minutes before the skies grew dark.

"That was amazing! Did you see that daddy?!" She jumped around.

"Yeah..." He said absentmindedly as he picked her up.

He knew that with this excitement, she wasn't going down for sleep easily. He could not exactly blame her, though, as he had never seen something so profound. He looked up to the skies again, hoping to see even the smallest traces of the interstellar show. As his vision lowered, his eyes caught none other than Ororo on the building, who waved to the bewildered Logan. Her arms lowered as the skies became once again consumed with clouds, then her eyes lost the electroluminescent glow.

He settled Shortie into her bed, who would not stop rambling about yet another perfect day. He tucked her in, making sure every crevice was filled with the soft blanket. He sat on the side of her bed, stroking her fiery red hair as she continued to talk, gazing into her dark blue eyes.

"Hey, Shortie. Be honest with me here. Are you... happy?"

She writhed out of the cocoon of blankets and lovingly hugged his large frame, mumbling that she had never been happier. He countered that she didn't need to lie, to which she said that she was being one hundred percent truthful. As she thought about it, she truly never felt such happiness that she did in the approximate frame of a year that she had him as a father and lived at the institute.

"Don't worry daddy. I've got that joy, joy, joy, down in my heart."

He laid her down, kissed her head, and bid her goodnight, crawling into his own bed. He had to agree. He also would never admit that he too had never been happier.


End file.
